Sorry Evert - I borrowed your ship - but I needed a rhyme for gull.
On the brig Blue Bird, the Blue Bird of Hull
She leaves with a HO and she sails with a HEY
And a vicious wail from a laughing gull
She sails to the east and she sails to the west.
She sails any journey our dreams will request
She makes no bones about anyone's quest
She simply does what we think is best
But the wind will cease and the ship will drift
And the telltale's rose will be swirling
In a crash of thunder the wind will shift
And the gusts of the storm will be whirling
With all sails torn and with fading lights
The Blue Bird signs her very last deal
To sail the North Sea in the darkest of nights
With a blindfolded helmsman lashed to the wheel
The captain he owns a book with a seal
He brakes it open and begins to read
And the sailors know that now it's for real
When the sun turns black and the moon starts to bleed
From a distant past cries a laughing gull
To the brig Blue Bird, the Blue Bird of Hull
When she slowly ascends from the burning sea
To rest among the stars where she ceases to be
Copyright © 2009 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved
Poetry by Göran Gustafsson
Read 587 times
Written on 2013-08-31 at 10:05
Tags Apocalypse
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The Northbound Ship
The sails are all set and the anchors aweighOn the brig Blue Bird, the Blue Bird of Hull
She leaves with a HO and she sails with a HEY
And a vicious wail from a laughing gull
She sails to the east and she sails to the west.
She sails any journey our dreams will request
She makes no bones about anyone's quest
She simply does what we think is best
But the wind will cease and the ship will drift
And the telltale's rose will be swirling
In a crash of thunder the wind will shift
And the gusts of the storm will be whirling
With all sails torn and with fading lights
The Blue Bird signs her very last deal
To sail the North Sea in the darkest of nights
With a blindfolded helmsman lashed to the wheel
The captain he owns a book with a seal
He brakes it open and begins to read
And the sailors know that now it's for real
When the sun turns black and the moon starts to bleed
From a distant past cries a laughing gull
To the brig Blue Bird, the Blue Bird of Hull
When she slowly ascends from the burning sea
To rest among the stars where she ceases to be
Copyright © 2009 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved
Poetry by Göran Gustafsson
Read 587 times
Written on 2013-08-31 at 10:05
Tags Apocalypse
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
