Captain Cur (England)

Wispy thin sails grasping times forgotten breeze
dodging menacing melting iceberg floes,
gingerly inching between towering rings
channeling streams of lonesome glacier rows.

Ghost ship unseen in cloudless blue sea glass
maneuvering slowly towards future sands,
snow showers unleashed by our scraping masts
destinies uncertain clock, stalled dead hands.

Eclipsed moon rapidly reforming clouds
swirling circular paths cyclonic spins
breaking free of the barren polar bounds
bow to stern caught in histrionic winds,

waves of tremendous infectious delight
graphic lines of storm strength shouting pleas
breakers of unimaginable height
lifting us from the death grip of the seas.