A
time once was, a time
when you were still allowed to step upon the sun dried, salt bleached planks of an organic sailing ship. To have as only reassurance a fragile shield of wood and tar between you and a thousand leagues of water. To hear the creaking of the timber the shouts of men and actually look forward to finding out if we will live to tell the tale of yet another rounding of the Horn. |
Sanctuary Poems (c) 2000 StarFields - http://1-poem.com/