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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2096980
Each life is like a ship on the seas of Time. Adventures now and greater yet to come.
The beauteous breezes of the soul
blow on the heart’s lone sail,
We’re drawn to life that’s truly whole
by gentle or the gale.

We set our course in youth of days,
unfurl our sails anon,
Adjust our paths as wind displays
its fury or be gone.

At times we wonder why we sit,
so battered by the sun,
But other times the way seems fit,
that greatest vict'ry's won.

We revel in the skies of blue,
eschew the grayish tones,
Convinced of what we ought to do,
the lack, thereof, wafts groans.

Provisions often tell the tale
of courage or its loss,
When fed, we our near shipmates hail,
when starved, all peace we toss.

No land in sight, just rolling waves
the fortnight drains us hope,
We wish ourselves more youngish braves,
not aged men, who grope.

The ship of state in each man's life,
oft tied to winds of change,
The trough reflects the days of strife,
the crest, the best arrange.

Yet, stalwart soul cannot be blown
by winds of change awry,
He knows how best the sails be flown
as daily new things try.

The truest man will honest say
he cannot sail as one
He needs his friends with each new day
and with the setting sun.

O, look not on the wayworn hull,
nor portholes salty-dimmed,
Remember days with sail all full,
so smartly, sharply trimmed!

Some day in Heaven's golden port
I'll find my lasting barque
To sail th'Eternal waves and sort
my thoughts and sing with lark.

For earthly ships are made of stuff
that's never meant to last,
Eternal Hands make ships enough
for ev'ry stormy blast.

Line Count: 48

by Jay O'Toole
on September 19, 2016

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