if I can’t melt into a whisper
see there … in the clearing
fowl winds blow
she’s smooth on waves of mettle
nights pervade my wish
for smooth and silken sails
to carry me upon those wanton ships
to shores of latent discovery
or a hint to ease this wounded shell
then surely I may
not be able to fit the jigsaw together
with only flicker of flame to light my way
king checks queen
yet fails to see her strength
how pride and strength still hold
within the ashen corridors
that fifty years have worked upon
on the long and trodden path
barefooted, bedraggled, wayfarer
still clears rocks, the fungi and the witches broom
from ancient oaks that fail to block her steadfast trail
tawny, tiny, craggy, hopes
still bend and fold within the torn and tattered sails
of her tall ships of grandeur and of creaking masts
that threaten with a hairline crack
to end Kon-Tiki expeditions
so every now and then a bailing
must take place
to save the sinking ship
but there remains a need for aid
as this titanic heart still holds a yearning
for the ride on torrent seas
with water babes and mermaids
and prays life’s ecstasies might shield her from a wake
she has endured
always steady as she goes girl
sleep will come … in time … oh wura wura wura wart
skip along the new fandango girl
and never let the worries be your guide
© July 25th, 2000 CG Mair