A Sailor’s Plight

Heavy clouds, with their bellies stained red,
Fill sea faring hearts with contemptuous dread.
Wary eyes scan the heavens,
Whispered prayers leave the lips,
St Francis give courage! Add strength to the ship!
Upon the horizon, watching wicked winds pick up,
They know they’ll be testing their erratic luck.
Feeling sea spray upon them, in temperate gust,
The ocean caresses with her blood thirsty lust.
Myth mixes with fact in the terror on board,
They call to the ancients, Gods from before,
Oh great Poseidon! Call your mistress home,
Nine from the crew are already gone.
Washed to the depths of this deep briny mire,
What else do you need? What more is required?
Is passage not paid for our trespassing sin?
You’ve collected so many in your watery den.
Please leave us afloat, give us some sort of sign
That death to us all is not your intended design.
Hundreds before have been taken below,
Why do you look upon us as your foe?
We are no threat, nothing to fear,
Why won’t you listen? Why can’t you hear?
Upon deaf ears all their pleas did fall,
Insignificant, they are, in the path way is all.
This war, that reigns, is between sky and sea.
They are but pawns, caught in-between.
The gods they all laugh at these creatures so small,
The battle cry sounded, they’re only meeting the call.
But, weary they grow of this unconquerable clash,
Rough waves subside; wind eases its lash.
Those that survive breathe deep with relief
Once again, they are safe, their lives they will keep.
The gods shake their heads, will never perceive,
Why mans adventurous glory sets sail on the sea.

© Tonya Greenlee