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blacknessonseapoet

Poem No. 137

POEM TITLE I Dream the Moving Sea


POEM

Though I live and work on the land,

each night I dream the moving sea.

It calls to me, crooning soft, and

that is where I must ever be.


I prep my ship before the dawn

Pumping fuel, storing food, dressing.

Hurry and hustle, eager to be gone,

Pausing only for a blessing.


But once I am afloat, dark clouds

rise and thunder, pull waves with them

until each crashing wave grows loud

splashing me until I grew numb


The sea is beautiful today.

But it is downright deadly too.

If I would live, I cannot stay.

My lips are already blue.


I turn for home, but then I see


them: whales, pirates, and mermaids,

All the wonders that there be.

All the promises the sea made.


To me as a boy, and now a man.

These wonders draw me seaward.

I go home and then to sea again.

My ship drives ever leeward.


Without fish or treasure. Just me.

I’m sailing bleakly home again.

Back to little Blackness on Sea,

home of Hamlet, do you ken?


I sit with friends amidst warm wood,

eating piles of lobster and fries,

thinking of all the ocean’s good,

and telling entertaining lies.

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