SHIP-SHAPE
For Andrea, My M.E. Friend in California
I used to be a sailing-ship,
With sleek and
slender line.
And, when in
stately, fullest sail,
Some elegance was
mine.
I sailed the seas
delightedly,
To me, no port was
ever dull.
But then, one day,
something hit
And tore apart my
vulnerable hull.
Gradually, I began
to list,
Then a shuddering,
juddering halt.
A rock? A reef? An
Act of Neptune?
Who knows? So,
no-one’s fault.
Isolated and
marooned,
I now lie sadly
grounded,
Unable to get going,
But not completely foundered.
Oh, how I long to go
to sea,
And sail the seas
once more.
It is a cherished,
longed-for hope,
For I still hear the
ocean’s roar.
Ffion