Upon the grey foreboding seas,
Our ship, she sails a dreary breeze,
And gulls release Alarming cries,
As thunderheads from north arise.
The rolling swells, like mountains spill
Upon our hull, the weight of hills.
The men, they strain with rope and chain
Fending wind and rain in vain.
From shearing force, the stern, she cracks.
The bow then breaks, the ship awrack.
She, overturning, scatters all hands
To towering waves, like leaves to land.
A darkness follows, then scorching glare
upon my reddened weary stare:
Sapphire skies, and emerald seas;
Coral shores, and tropical trees.
Upon my feet, I weary rise
Drinking in the summery skies.
These days of ease All same it seems.
My former life uneasy dreams.
Copyright © 1997, Robert Kauffmann. All Rights
Reserved.