A Ship Named Love
Is a many splintered thing
Not every hard edge sanded smooth
by relentless waves of tempest time
Knot every keel stays true when laid
As sheets need tending, firm hands to guide the mizzen sail
Lest rogue waves topple the main, making seacocks fail
Fair winds and gentle seas fondle senses dull
Yet hidden reefs and squalls threaten breech of hull
Some are lost, rudderless in a restless sea,
Others drift, becalmed, their bearings disagree
Not every voyage finds the distant coast,
A mariner’s fate, the windfall of Poseidon’s ghost
If by chance, the ever changing zephyr’s mood
You find safe passage, hoist the mainsail, gratitude
At voyages end, lament the Clipper’s melancholy masts, canvass furled away
Her beauty lies in open sea, chancing gale, wild ocean’s spray
Heeled over, skimming waves, the sails all trimmed
Pity those who stay at anchor and never kiss the wind
