floating out of the marina
and into the bay
did a sleepwalking helmsman
hear “Anchors Aweigh”
Floating off silently
to seas far off shore
cries from crew heard far on the shore
“help us all!” they implore
For on its journey out to sea
stuck in mud crew found it be
only hoping for a ride
on the wave of a passing tide
And reflecting on a passing thought
the skipper who a hope he’s bought
a help or two from a passing tugboat
and fingers crossed – he stays afloat!
Inkdrop is freelance writer with a passion for exploring the intersections between nature, architecture, and artistic expression. With a background in computing, and writing – his pen name harks back to when he played around with rhymes and a fountain pen. Now joined by a selection of created photos from an acquired DSLR camera He shares insights with scribblers of all backgrounds. Outside of visiting museums and exploring the latest in exhibits , he enjoys walking through the countryside in pursuit of the next rainbow.
The Inkwell 
Leave a comment