Her Nights Sojourn
Copyright 2010 Russell Leslie Howells
I crouch at her bowsprit,legs bent at knees,
sharing her first touch with the present
The warm air flows awkwardly past us
before being scooped up by the large tan sails
and directed in a uniformity
that converts it to forward momentum
The dark blue enigmatic water glides beneath us
before being parted by the bow
and continuing it's journey alone
down each side of the bulky white hull
until it re-unites in the confused turbulent wake
at her broad stern and becomes our past
The calm horizon stretches lazily before us
in a soft curvature denoting earths spherical shape
Shadows and reflections dance at our waterline
swimming in the shallow undulations keeping pace
as we sail onwards seeking safe anchorage
for our nightly respite
We tuck into a shallow crystal clear bay at sunset
her sails furled in well earnt rest
Watching out for bombies that dot the bays floor
I direct her helmsman to a clear sandy gap
and then let her anchor leap clear of the bow
to bed deeply into the white sand for her nights sojourn
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