I have tossed for many long and endless hours upon the tides of fever
Upon the many billows to which my rich blood had ever ridden
Where much plentiful fancy fish stream down a non-ending river
Neither ocean or sea spawns along from India or Sweden
There of in the distance stands my body of a burnt boat had drifted
Along on many endless sides which had crawled tentacles of crabs
Slimming her vastness of timbers; on which upon the mightiest of waves upwafted
That eventually crept some inopportune of unknown rats that gnawed at her ropes and ribs
Thrashing, crashing, she then had dived within her portholes choking
With an endless amount of weed which oozed the mightiest swirls of black and green
Then after she was gulping inch by inch as the seagulls were shrieking
Almost at once, sieved depth unto depth to silence until a blast-blown,
I in my wreckage idling beyond the storms charging and churning
Have awakened upon and marooned along the coastal shores of morning.
Written: Oct.15,2015
Melody Thomas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem