Your Poetry Dot Com

The day I went to sea we were standing by the dock, and she was holding me, holding me. Wouldn't let me go.

She tried to hide her fear as she watched him sail away.
Took comfort in the other wives, the things they had to say.
"The first time out is filled with doubt, but always works out fine."
Hope is for the return, sorrow is for goodbyes,
and all between is time.

The storm crashed into us, rolled over us, cast us up to the sky and back.
Brought blackness to our eyes, crushed our wills to splinters.

She sat upon an outcrop, searching for a sail.
He promised he'd return, promised without fail.
The last light of day helped her find her way down the rocky climb.
Hope was the morning sun, sorrow the darkened trail,
and all between is time.

I slid down the pitching deck, still standing upright when I hit the water.
The cold grabbed me, held me. I drown in thoughts of you.

Do not worry my love, this did not hurt.
Death is as gentle as the breeze on your skirt.
Soft as the kisses I miss so sublime.
Hope is the other side, sorrow the tear she cries,
and all between is time.

I watch her from the clouds, from bellow the icy depths.
Hold her hand as she sleeps, and smile when she awakes.

She sat in her rocker reading, and glancing at the sea.
One eye on her poetry, one eye looks for me.
We'll meet in death she said under her breath and returned to her book of rhyme.
Hope is for the reunion, sorrow is for the wait,
and all between is time.

This poem is Copyright © darkeyedman