Lee"word"

November 7, 2016
By AmateurInkwell DIAMOND, Middleburgh, New York
AmateurInkwell DIAMOND, Middleburgh, New York
80 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Lost in a sea of lines paper
Peaceful thoughts bring soft gliding


But, In storms of anger,
I cleat my lines
In hope of gaining control.


Gunneling up to my feelings,
Throwing this choppy soul
To written winds carrying me


In bountiful breeze.
Steering rotting rudder leeward.
Home.


The author's comments:

This is a metaphor poem comparing Sailing and liturature.


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