Get Rid Of The Advertisements

WHAT THE SEA KNOWS OF SAILORS
 
An old salt lives in a seafaring town
Where at eve from a pub he watches the sea.
And ponders the times she’d near took him down;
He thinks to himself, “she’ll never have me”.

Through a forest of spars, the sea looks back
At a huddled figure in a round yellow hole
And moans, “I’ve no need of thy corpse, old jack,
When for years I’ve already had thy soul...”.

Joseph I. Middlesworth
11/2019

By ishmael

© 2019 ishmael (All rights reserved)

 

Read more poems by  ishmael
Send this poem to a friend
Read 1 viewers comment(s)






The Starlite Cafe Discussion Board | Home

Back to Previous Page