Sunday, September 25, 2011

Dead Ships


The shining edge of the world,
where seas are tossed and swirled.
The place where ships go to die.
Turn to rust.
Fall into dust.

Not to carry lusty men
under an angry sky
into iniquity's den;
a bold and tempting port renown
where many a sailor has been brought down.

Those that stormy waters did not drown,
or brown palm-tree girls lure away.

Salty dogs, these seamen be,
that God has seen fit to save,
Of ships that sail the steel-gray seas
and ride with dolphins on the wave
and chase the whales of history
into the shining edges of the world.

mindbringer, 24 September 2011