.
Men Sail Out
The waves they come—
A timeless thing,
The earth their home—
Adventures bring.
Men sail out
On wooden ships,
Embolden hearts,
Prayers on their lips.
They do it for
Their daily bread.
They do it then
To get ahead.
They do it for
Their families true.
They do it for
Their flag so blue.
Now only men
Upon each ship,
It’s life alone
With sword on hip.
For any minute
The whales may rise,
Or enemies
To take their prize.
Now only men—
It’s life alone.
They work at sea
But think of home.
.
.
Michael Charles Maibach began writing poems at age nine. Since then he has continued writing poems, and sharing them with friends. His career has involved global business diplomacy. He is a native of Peoria, Illinois. Today Michael resides in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia. More of his poems are found at www.MaibachPoems.us or on Facebook.
Dear Michael,
Your poem was a pleasure to read. The rhythm flows like the sea which is your setting. Thank you.
Gigi
Very nice, Michael – thinking of home is truly perennial!
Know ye now, Bulkington? Heh.
I want to say that the dimeter was a perfect choice to capture the windchop of waves.