Friday, March 6, 2009

The Temperate Sea

And after the storm,
When the sea swells down,
The ship pauses,
Adjourned with temperate reground
Rustling with silver sails,
On the galley high seas,
With all the riches and grails
,Her shipmates are appeased,
With hearts abound for gold,
A diamond studded hold,
For pirate ye’ be warned,
There is no going home
With a ship made of dreams lo& behold!

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