Gusts Of Wind Poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Gusts Of Wind
Gusts of wild wind rampaging
as we plow through the raging sea.
Great birds aloft foraging,
loudly calling in the air.
Near rocky shores threatening,
we work to bring our ship about-
boiling surf alive and menacing.
Gusts of wind carry our cries aloft!
Mariners' bones wash ashore
by tides that ebb and flow
carrying debris to the beach
as wild cries echo in the high wind!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 2:16:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Please tell me, what in God's good Kingdom are you trying to accompish here, besides a poetic version of Summer Re-runs! Or did you think that by taking the 'Edmund Fitzgerald'' out of this duplicate wind quilling, would be the inventiveness i was suggesting you initiate in your work? Wooooosh! Funny stuff...Keep trying though. FjR