I was sitting by the sea one evening,
Watching the sea kiss the shore.
The waves were singing to the rocks,
The sands were dancing to the lilt of the breeze.
I could see the sky turn red,
As the sun waved goodbye at the horizon.
The owls awakened from their slumber,
Slowly realising of their nightly chores.
I have been here for long now,
Unmindful of an ever passing Time.
Yet so enamoured I am of this vast sea,
That no care in the world affects me.
Just as I began to make my way,
To the dreary world I reside.
I saw a canoe float by,
In quiet and solitary harmony.
There was a dame at its helm,
Sailing towards the horizon.
Sitting at the foot of the drifter,
She steered her way towards infinity.
She passed me by this lonesome sailor,
Looking for a new port, a new life.
We looked at each other in silent anticipation,
I tipped my hat. Godspeed; Goodbye!
I wished to know more about her,
This beauty that rode upon Poseidon’s realm.
I wondered wherefore will she go,
I wondered of the world that lie beyond.
Fantastical musings, lost in thought;
I thought of the poise and grace she bespoke.
A sailor of no name, no charter nor claim;
She set forth on a journey, this dainty dame
Her arms were slender but strong,
Her eyes spewed unflinching resolve.
Her gait had grace, she steadied the pace,
She’d left, home, her life and set forth to start anew.
I wondered what must have drove her,
To leave behind all that she’d held close.
Maybe an unforgiving mother, an ungrateful husband;
An unreasonable father or a world full of burden.
Such was her resolve,
The lonesome sailor who took to the sea.
Where men shuddered and reconsidered,
She set forth, her eyes looking to the Neptunian reverie.
As the boat slipped through the mellow waves,
I sat in awe of her magical grace.
Her beauty lay in the strength of her resolve,
No man her master, no world her prison.
She broke her shackles,
She set forth upon the expanses of the sea.
Seeking asylum among the bounding main,
Absolved, asunder she dreams in aquamarine.
I smile as she floats away,
Never looking back to what she left behind.
I sigh; as I realise we are but prisoners of our pasts,
Where she rebelled, I conformed to the throes of human spite.