Boat ride

We take our boat for granted
On an island: it’s a truck;
Good for hauling groceries,
The odd fridge, lumber, guests.

Yesterday, when guests were
Immanent, we thought of
Going upriver a few miles
By boat into the sunset for supper.

The ride was exhilerating:
We followed the blinding
River of gold directly to the
Sunset, where the gods laid out
For us a feast of fish and meat,
Various exotic breads and vegetables.

Then two knights arrived
All clad in black leather, and wheeled
Their snorting black steeds
Magnificantly into the courtyard
And they did partake of golden ale
Standing beside their steeds.

When our feast was over,
We betook ourselves to our
Speeding boat: the wind was in
Our faces, the waters black,
The waves rising, but we

Were equal to the task and did
Speed home across the miles to
The warm waiting lights
Of our secure island home.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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1 Response to Boat ride

  1. charlie says:

    Your island poems are so full of longing, Doug — they become themselves a kind of river of dreams and fogs and lights along shore. I love this river stuff — know your island better from the poems than from the visit(s).


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