To what safe shores…?


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    I launch into uncertain deep, yet again:
    rope-burnt hands wrestle wind-strain;
    small craft, turmoil-tossed, storm water:
    onboard wife, two sons (and dead daughter)
    -cracked the keel, slightly shredded sails
    but prow persistent, into waves prevails.

    What kind of captain? A lost leader?
    Word-weaver, talker, not map reader;
    true tale teller, hopeful poet, anarchist!
    Quixotic traveller, situation surrealist:
    the best sea-dog you’ve got, I’m afraid;
    slapstick cut cloth but hand-made.

    To what safe shores do we navigate?
    Motley crew (and mascot) anchor late.
    What sea-faring tales, to children tell?
    Will safe harbour will secure family well?
    Round table warm, we drink and feast;
    lighthouse lit, tired smiles released.


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