by yachtsman_7Dublin, Ireland
May 2020 305 Views 5 comments
the rebuild
she was crying
in the sea
unloved and worn
she spoke to me
her heart and boards
were long ripped out
her diesel engine
left in doubt
yet I heard her
heard her true
in her estuary
of blue
I spent a fortune
on her hull
I slept beneath
the dawning gull
weeping wounds
carved by years
open sores
wept salted tears
a friend helped me
with her coat
a rising tide
lifts every boat
and I rescued her
that year
out of wet rot
out of fear
yet twas she
who rescued me
with my work
upon the quay
less days
to think of you
my retro thinking
hours few
the odd bewildered
passerby
would enquire of me
"Why?"
this dishevelled
bearded man
eating something
from a can
I thank the thousands
that walked past
who saw her place in life
as last
they failed to stop
and read the signs
they saw no beauty
in her lines
in the sea
unloved and worn
she spoke to me
her heart and boards
were long ripped out
her diesel engine
left in doubt
yet I heard her
heard her true
in her estuary
of blue
I spent a fortune
on her hull
I slept beneath
the dawning gull
weeping wounds
carved by years
open sores
wept salted tears
a friend helped me
with her coat
a rising tide
lifts every boat
and I rescued her
that year
out of wet rot
out of fear
yet twas she
who rescued me
with my work
upon the quay
less days
to think of you
my retro thinking
hours few
the odd bewildered
passerby
would enquire of me
"Why?"
this dishevelled
bearded man
eating something
from a can
I thank the thousands
that walked past
who saw her place in life
as last
they failed to stop
and read the signs
they saw no beauty
in her lines
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2020
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Comments (5)
yet twas she
who rescued me
with my work
upon the quay
It takes the right person to pass by and notice her restoration potential and, in turn, get restored. Thank you for sharing this sea-worthy write with its rising tide. Delightful!
Kathy
I'm a water lover mermaid
I could see the ship in the water
Could see it near the beach
Where every wave wiggles its belly
Calling u home take me home
Refurbish me love me
Hair blowing in the wind
Sun shine seagulls
Some of its guts removed
Calling you make me into something useful again pretty again
Those that have hearts
See possibilities potential of old ribs old lines old wood expensive weathered wood
Just like when u enter an antique shop and u say that thing over there is talking loudly to me u have an idea of how to recycle & take her home
She becomes a treasure a good find great addition to your masterpieces collections
Clean it up make it useful again
I have carved bears made from the wood from old ships beautiful
Great soul in this poem intriguing
Rachael_0622