Sailorman
Glassy seas are there for easy sailing up ahead;
with nautical canvas unfurled and spacious spread,
smooth sailing in his thoughts so he thinks so easy,
riding along the casual waves so smooth and freely
while Mother Nature rests her head in a deep sleep
with her sailing lanes open and certain o’er the deep.
She’s ready to fool such a man of limited foresight,
ready to rise up from under and come up and fight,
to show him her blackened teeth up in the skies
with her muscles flexed and him in her eyes.
She kicks up the waves to roll over the boat,
splashing and putting a lump in his throat,
watching him scream with nobody near,
helpless and hopeless and stricken with fear
as the waves roll over to take him on down,
down to Davy Jones’s locker at bottom’s bound.
How he survived the storm is a miracle indeed
as Mother Nature showed him her diabolic creed.
No more sail boats or sailing for him for evermore;
no more testing her strength as he stays ashore.
Mother Nature is loving and innocent as a child
and also unpredictable and powerful and wild.
