The mighty ocean posed no threat,
As he set out
undaunted,
The challenge of the open sea,
Indeed, was what he
wanted.
His craft was small, but worthy,
He knew it through and
through,
Just like the back of his hand,
He knew what it could do.
The waves were big and angry,
As they crashed across the
bow,
He roared with laughter at them,
More invigorated now.
The waves grew ever higher,
He feared he was off
course,
No stars above to guide him,
Yet he sailed on, without
remorse.
A hearty, robust seaman, he,
Who could not admit
defeat,
Defiantly he shook his fist,
As the vessel groaned and
creaked.
The fury of the water rose,
He sensed the passion of the
sea,
He fought between delight and fright
"A-HA!" he cried, "YOU CAN'T
TAKE ME!"
Churning waters ... suds-like foam,
Smelling of
disaster,
He bared his chest and roared some more,
"BLAST YA' - I'M THE
MASTER!"
He held fast; he'd not give in,
As long as he had
breath,
He'd met this battle oft before,
He had no fear of death.
But suddenly there came a calm,
The water was
receding,
Oh no - a dreaded whirlpool!
Another danger breeding.
Powerless, he could not fight,
The pressure strong and
unforgiving,
Taking everything in sight,
Its force, coercive and
unyielding.
With all hope done, he would succumb,
"FAREWELL, CRUEL
WORLD!" he cried.
Then ... his mother wrapped him in a towel,
For little
seamen must be dried.
"How was your voyage, Son?" she asked,
"Cool, Mom ... I
almost made it, too,
If you hadn't pulled the plug,
I would have made it
through."
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright December
2002