Epic Battle at Sea



Epic Battle at Sea
The ocean breeze gusts discretely across the sails of her bow.
A British frigate, square-rigged for war lay in the sea, off Macau.
While the upwelling of the azure sea, vibrates against the stern.
Beneath a cloud in shades darkness, the sunglow emits no burn.

Within eyes reach, a tranquil seashore in golden grains of sand,
With visions of crustacean, basking in tides, crawling slow to land.
Sailors wanting to feel the beach-sand under the coconut shade.
Denied all leave for the readiness of battle for the Brockton Maid.

The whim of war is the sailor's sense of duty to his comrades of kin.
The evil serpents of Spain have reared their heads, posturing in sin.
Off on the streams of blue oceans from the saltines river seas of end.
Bravery of the sailors and marines for a country they have to defend.

Out in the distant a Spanish armada of discontent comes ever near.
While the British fleet sails directly for, without deliberation of fear.
The Spanish armada stilled in the swell of waves from a torrent sea.
As the British fleet in gust of wind, under cannon volley taste victory.

The toxic dark skies from guns dust rain upon the seas of Spanish ships.
While masks and shafts fall down on decks in thunderous quivers of lips.
The dismemberment of death lay floating on the raft of drifting sea winds.
The Captain of the Brockton Maid honors the seamen on their glorious win.

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Submitted on December 05, 2012

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:15 min read
10

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABBCC DDEE FFGG HHAA IIXF
Closest metre Iambic octameter
Characters 1,383
Words 249
Stanzas 5
Stanza Lengths 5, 4, 4, 4, 4

Norman Wilson

IntroductionForgotten are the times the tick of a clock once chimed sobering sounds that caressed my hearts nightly dreams. As I awaken to the touch of light that burns upon a candles wick flickering my words for all to see. This drives my thoughts through the darkest of nights of loneliness that renders my quill upon parchment with ink that dances to minds and souls.Now I hear the screeching of my heart when the blue horizon covers the orb of emptiness.Within the shelter of my mind with little, purpose other than my words that keep me sane. These are my new poems I have written in the quiet of my night, forever wished away in a writer’s pain. As I strive to write that perfect poem that, my soul desperately seeks. Then and only then can my words rest upon a sleep. more…

All Norman Wilson poems | Norman Wilson Books

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