Whitecaps Rising Poem by Andy Brookes

Stray not from the way ward wind but sail full billowed
tacking on the spume of thought,
egos are bent but strive for nought.
write for writing's sake, for fame is but a transient wave.

God laughs lusty loud at the puny rails of mortal men.
making the heavens hallowed halls ring mirthful.

but ever thoughts of celebrity like sickness moves the fevered pen
sliding across crisp pale sheets like a pallid virgin cheek, no rosy glow; except passionate words to make the moon blush red.

all the wisdom's in a blade of grass
or in a particulate of sand cast afloat upon the ever heaving seas.
steering a vagrant course by fixed eternal stars
come at last to birth and berth, rest in quiet harbours of the night content to ride upon the tidal waters shift.