Upon the Fickle Tide
Posted by: jas <jas@...>
http://www.cloudburstpoetry.com
Copyright (c) 2011, J. Randal Matheny
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UPON THE FICKLE TIDE
by J. Randal Matheny
Lost in the formless world of turning mist,
Where none go north and muddied waters twist,
No leading lines exist.
Confused, the pilot turns to crash aground,
He dies engulfed in fog without a sound,
By greys and sameness downed.
Without the shore or heaven's stars to guide,
The wieldy ship at sea floats far and wide,
Upon the fickle tide.
On the webpage for this poem, check out the photo of
swirling mist (that must have been tough to click), a
bit of background on how this poem came about, and a
FREEBIE of another stanza in the same meter and rhyme
scheme, but different topic. wp.me/pbYlo-XD
--
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