He sank the weight,
and raped the mast.
Forbidden shores,
he had found at last.
New world laid before his eyes,
Twas not of joy,
the tears he cried.
But for a love,
felt pushed aside,
no words left to say.
The conquerer,
that she knows he is.
His only love,
Viola Grey.
He knew not miles,
how far away.
But he knew that he had sailed,
for several days.
He cried each night,
each day he prayed.
His LORD to keep,
Viola Grey.
This one thing,
so close,
so dear.
Full of life,
love and cheer.
He longed to see her loving face,
hear her voice,
feel her embrace.
This new world he knew,
he could not stay.
He'd plant his flag,
and sail away.
Back to the port,
from which he came.
To his only love,
Viola Grey.
this pleasantly reminds me of my favourite Poe piece...so beautiful and such a contrast to Voodoo...but just as fantastically written...great work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderfully expressive piece. Do not all men feel this way of Viola Grey? ?