The Sea for a Sailor

You are the waves that rock this ship,

                                          wildly pitching,


                                                                     careening,

                                   careless of its cargo.


Poseidon has nothing on you.


You break against me,

and break, and break, and  b r e a k  your ego.


My decks flood,

the rain falls heavy as hail stones

from clouds as dark as those that hang upon your brow.

The storm winds scream,

they sound like you,

                               but far away

and barely human,

and they threaten to snatch away my sails

with hungry, ghosting fingers.



How I long for a strong, brave sailor

to save me from the deep.

I need a man who smells of petrichor

to navigate your unfriendly waters,

to show me blessed landfall

and bring the sweet shore to my feet.



Every drop of you for someone steady,

a rock I can rely upon –

Every last drop

for land, verdant, and solid,

for you can only be relied on

to rock the boat

and pull me down to drown.


I do not want to die at sea.


B r e a k,   b r e a k,   b r e a k,

robed   in   your   Poseidon  blue.

 
Oh, the Sea for a Sailor!


Next time that I set sail

this ship will hold two

and we will be sailing in waters

far from your petulant

and bitter reach.