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