A piece I wrote. This one, by request. A lady I ran across on livejournal put out a call to people to write a poem or blurb to go with a picture of a woman in a wedding dress on the edge of a cliff-face. I volunteered, and this was the result. This might actually end up published somewhere, which is exciting.

Sailor's Vigil

On evenings stained with sanguine hues,
And night winds' scents of brock and rue,
E'er will I stand on salt seas' strand,
Still waiting there for you, my love.
Still waiting there for you.

Away you went, long months ago,
Your wits to test, your strength to show,
To seek your gold o'er oceans bold
All in the lowlands, low, my love.
All in the lowlands low.

In vain, I hope for your return
From tempest's lash and wild waves' churn
And 'till my last day, I'll pine away,
For you, my lamp shall burn, my love.
For you, my lamp shall burn.

This light, I pray, will guide you home
To your bonnie bride, no more to roam,
But it ne'er can be. The restless sea
Hath drowned you in her foam, my love.
Hath drowned you in her foam.

Now, all young maids, my warning take,
And ne'er sailor, your husband make.
In spin-drifts tossed, he'll be surely lost,
And your poor heart, he will break, my love.
And your poor heart, he will break.

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