What Will Becalm Me? Poem by Mark E Webster

Casting my eyes on a stormy sea
Wondering what will becalm me
When amongst the spume and the rage I see
A figure fighting to set itself free
Free of the tossing, tumultuous waves
Surfing the rollers for the release it craves
Facing the plight of a watery grave
Is it my place to watch or my place to save?
On closer inspection I see it's a girl
Thrashing and gasping in the heave and the whirl
Discarding incumbent clothes I hurl
Myself into the angry brine
And set forth to reach the maid in time
But the off-shore wind is no friend of mine
And I'm frantically flapping like a fish on a line
Pulled down and down into inky deep
Forced to the brink of terminal sleep
Flashing before me memories I keep
The loves, the losses for which I weep
By chance I'm uplifted, by current I break
Free of death's clutches for rescue to make
But the girl has succumbed to the risk I take
And lies face down on the stony bed
Once more to the bottom in fear and dread
I search for the body but in its stead
A mannequin I find, no bodily form
For this I sacrificed all to the storm
My life blood sapped, my body torn
Flung on the shingle, ragged, forlorn
I cast my eyes back on that stormy sea
Wondering what will becalm me.