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Sea Series, Poem 2: The Story of Pirate Glass

Out beyond the cerulean deep
There cast a ship of crystal.
A ghost on waves, it splashed in
the haze of the rising sun.

The surf was strong,
but it flowed like leaves
down a current in June, you might have seen
it in the moonlight, a ship with one room.

The captain aboard holed up in his hoard
Had not so tranquil dreams.
Slipping undertow, as the riptide rolled, he promised the stars
He'd never go, never go back to the shore again.

"Oh fair and trembling shoreline,
Oh frothy salt life of mine,
Although the world is waiting,
I will not tread the sandy line.

He feared the break and the shallow,
He feared what was left behind.
And although he was out of stout,
Dear friends, he would not make the climb.

For fragile was his vessel,
And more delicate his soul.
He said to the gulls, "Look through me.
There's nothing left to see but the sea, you know."

And that's the story of Pirate Glass,
The ghost on the rolling sea,
They say he's still dreaming
Of riptides and singing wearily,

"Oh fair and trembling shoreline,
Oh frothy salt life of mine,
Although the world is waiting,
I will not tread the sandy line."

--

Mad Words List 7.17.18

Cerulean
Undertow
Horizon
Splash
Current
Riptide
Flow
Surf
Froth
Crystal
Tranquil
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