Making Love To Her The Sea, Pirate Oaths I
From the edge of the horizon
a mighty ghost ship from the deep
her rising masts ringed with lightening
crewed with dead men roused from sleep;
her bow broke through the waters
where the waves of time are breached
our Captain shouting orders
a new world in our reach.
Smooth decks of polished teak wood
salt water draining fast,
her masts upon the mainstays stood
sunk in hardened ash;
she rose and then she dived
billowed sails a pale white flame,
she pitched the waves with mahogany spine
that shook her hulking frame.
Making love to her, the sea
with each crest and thrusting plunge
teasing with her lovely peaks
between the breast beats of her lungs.
The gulls broke out in song
singing chants to jealous winds,
they responded with invisible throngs
thus impassioning her sins.
We oiled rusty canons;
we sharpened swords and knives,
we raised our flags and banners
announcing pirate lives;
but, no other ship would hail us,
we were trapped in glories past,
no sweet fruit to sate our hunger
windless sails upon our mast.
We craved for new adventure;
yet, not a ripple on the blue
oaths are men’s indenture
to a ghost ship by its crew.
Each man by his free choice
each word by spoken breath
written in blood by his own voice
came due upon his death.
“At the twilight of my days
I pledge my oath to sea
upon this ship I will remain
Should my spirit haunt the depths,
should my spirit know no joy
I will be true to him in death
my soul in his employ.
I shall follow maps that lead
for he has sealed us both
my Captain rules the keel and keys
I swear this binding oath.”
We looked upon our Captain
uncertain of our course;
he unrolled for us a treasure map,
a treasure won and lost.
He rallied us around him
announcing our new quest
guided by the starlit twins
fell winds blew toward the West.
To be continued...
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
A most delectable piece of writing.
Comments about this poem (Making Love To Her The Sea, Pirate Oaths I by Captain Cur )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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