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Open Poetry #49
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2016-06-18 04:47 AM



The Fog


...And when the fog had settled in—
The horn, a distant blow;
The oars, we took as lover's then,
To row, and row, and row.
How long since sun sank in the west,
Or stars lit the night sky?
As on we toiled, worst or best,
And neither knowing why.

Taskmaster's whip losing its heart,
Captain's voice tinged with quake;
Our end surely doomed as our start,
Wills not ours to forsake.
We ran the gambit, tried and true
In our quest to find shore,
Till the horn we were rowing to
Came fainter than before.

We had not turned, we had not strayed,
Yet never did set still.
To master the sea, course we stayed.
Course be it good or ill.
The stomachs rumbled, drink was gone,
Our oars in plaintive plea
For land though fog had clearly drawn
Us further out to sea.

Until the fog began to lift,
From eyes ever dismayed;
And on black horizon a gift
Of light, if just a shade.
The oars in pause, we watched it rise,
A dream into the sky.
All looking around in surprise,
Nothing else met the eye.

Instruments shot, and hope as well,
We looked to bloody palms.
As if denying this were hell,
Gave up a prayerful psalm.
With the fog once more settling in,
All life beyond the tow;
Took up the oars as dead  men then,
To row, and row, and row.


Michael Anderson

6/18/2016


[This message has been edited by Michael (07-09-2016 08:40 PM).]

© Copyright 2016 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
BluesSerenade
Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549
By the Seaside
1 posted 2016-06-19 06:29 PM


The elements are tricky to navigate that's for sure.  Your poem applies to so many situations in life and left alot to ponder.

Great writing, as always

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA
2 posted 2016-06-22 12:58 PM


fine writing...james
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