Castaway

Upon the grey  foreboding seas,
Our ship, she sails  a dreary breeze,
And gulls release  Alarming cries,
As thunderheads  from north arise.

The rolling swells,  like mountains spill
Upon our hull,  the weight of hills.
The men, they strain  with rope and chain
Fending wind  and rain in vain.

From shearing force,  the stern, she cracks.
The bow then breaks,  the ship awrack.
She, overturning,  scatters all hands
To towering waves,  like leaves to land.

A darkness follows,  then scorching glare
upon my reddened  weary stare:
Sapphire skies, and  emerald seas;
Coral shores, and  tropical trees.

Upon my feet,  I weary rise
Drinking in the  summery skies.
These days of ease   All same it seems.
My former life  uneasy dreams.
 

Copyright © 1997, Robert Kauffmann.  All Rights Reserved.
 
 

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