Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Rhyme Of An Ancient Mariner

I waved at the boat as she started to sail,
Her speed no greater than that of a snail,
In the bright water, filled with sharks and whale
My boat looked sturdy but pale.

As the gentle winds carried her on,
I recollect my sailing days so long gone,
Today here I am standing on the lawn
And launching my boat 'St. John'

With the gentle waves she started to roll,
Lost her course and hit a nearby pole,
Even before she could reach her first goal,
My boat had lost its soul.

The very craft that I so dote.
Began to sink just like a goat,
In desperation I threw my coat,
As down went my paper boat.

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