Sunday, January 27, 2013

Poetry Practice

The Jolly Rodger tentacled and weary
Rips and flows over the
Ocean so blue.
Never to lose sight of his Moon,
(Shining so true.)

A pair of eyes Perching on the
Crow's nest, spy a black square
(Waving so true) on the
Horizon, his fear crept on his back
A thick layer of frost.

Screams from the deck;
Bellows through and through,
Under the black Jolly Rodger,
(Waving so true.)

Calypso calls to the splintered
Wood; reaping the lost men from
Their deeds thought good.
Under this crying Moon
(Shining so true;
So true.)

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