Comments about Karen BryceWerder
The Winston Churchill
The night was black,
The sea was green,
The moon hung shimmering in-between,
The dark green depths threw back the light,
Reflected off great sails of white.
The ship it pranced, and strained and danced,
Across the crest of waves it lanced,
Unchecked by figures true and straight,
A line along the side of fate.
A thunderbolt, a greedy sky, darkened by an ancient sigh
of sailors past, whose souls were lost
They called - the wind echoed, the ship came round,
She shuddered through great hills of foam,
Bucked and plummeted to depths unknown, ...