The Master of Men

She’s afloat, her sails grasping      

a’ handfuls o’ th’ win’

Her bow splits th’ distant waters like

a cauld steely blade.

Deep in th’ hold she is a groanin’,

groanin’ fer th’ quiet urges of th’ inland waves.

The captain stan’s tah aboon his cabin

eyes on th’ clouds,

face tae th’ win’,

hauns touching th’ air,

feeling th’ stones upon his skin

He breathes in deeply for th’ scent o’ land

ears atoned tae th’ soun’ o’ breaks

No sign o’ fowl

No beasties tae be seen

No sight o’ th’ Constant Star,

Th’ captain waits for th’

new day tae bring favor

About jedwardnajera

I am an artist and a Poet. I live the life of a poet. I published several novels. Nena the Fairy and the Iron Rose, Dust of the Moon are among them, available through Amazon Books. I have spent over thirty five years in a classroom. I am now retired from that profession. My father kept a living record of his lifetime as he lived through the Twentieth Century. He was born in 1908 and almost lived long enough to see us enter the new millennium. He entrusted to me nearly 400 pages that he wrote through the years. Now I am continuing the tradition by posting my own stories and misadventures. I am trying to post a new entry or chapter each Friday. Check in on us at least once a week for the latest post.
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