but not yet strong enough
to take the heartless weight of dark cargo
dumped deep in her unready hold,
the beautiful boat became unmoored
from the harbour of her home.
Her anchor slipped through shifting sands
as the ship’s sails were buffeted
by each errant gust of wind.
The rudder broke, the bowsprit split,
the fo’c’sle ghosts awoke and moaned
whilst helplessly she floated to and fro,
sometimes so close that her landlocked crew
had high hopes that they may reach her —
but each time the wild waves beat them back,
leaving them treading water, and her bobbing on the sea,
growing smaller as the winds ripped her sails
and whipped her away.
Gails attacked her lonely deck.
Sea brine ate her failing timbers,
cracked her weakened keel, and seeped into her hull.
At the stroke of doom, a miracle occurred;
drawing her to safer waters.
The tainted cargo began melting away,
and her anchor finally held sway.
When the big ship sailed her way,
its kindly captain saw this brave, but ailing boat.
Throwing her a lifeline, he led her to a safer shore,
where he forged a golden anchor,
replaced her broken parts, reinforced her base,
and painted her in brightest shades,
that she may proudly sail again.
Dedicated to David. You rock!
PS Love to Laura. I see you sail and I’m proud of you. xxx
The Daily Post #Unmoored
©Jane Paterson Basil