11-09-2015, 12:46 PM
This is one of my earlier pieces, and I wrote it a couple months back. I hope you enjoy, and, if you would be so kind, I hope you'd give me some advice. Thanks!
On a large bobbing barrel
In the middle of the sea,
Floats a wayward little sailor,
So happy and carefree.
Nevermore to hear the shouts
Of drunken men in drunken bouts.
Nor to hear of men’s fierce yells,
From which all darkness swells.
But instead to float on salty foam,
‘Till he finds an island home,
And lay across its golden shore
Where worries bother him no more.
And in his mental sanitation,
To forget all men, and deprivation.
Edit 2:
Thanks everyone for their ideas. This is what I have got so far. I have been playing with the idea of another stanza, but I am not quite sure. Well, here it is.
On a large and bobbing barrel
In the middle of the sea,
Floats a wayward little sailor,
Drinking brackish tea.
Nevermore to hear the shouts
Of drunken men in tackless bouts.
Nor to hear of men’s fierce yells,
But instead the soft sea swells.
He shall float on salty foam,
‘Till he finds an island home,
And lay across its golden shore
Where worries bother him no more.
And in his mental sanitation,
On his fair and lonely isle,
To forget all men and deprivation,
And laugh a little while.
On a large bobbing barrel
In the middle of the sea,
Floats a wayward little sailor,
So happy and carefree.
Nevermore to hear the shouts
Of drunken men in drunken bouts.
Nor to hear of men’s fierce yells,
From which all darkness swells.
But instead to float on salty foam,
‘Till he finds an island home,
And lay across its golden shore
Where worries bother him no more.
And in his mental sanitation,
To forget all men, and deprivation.
Edit 2:
Thanks everyone for their ideas. This is what I have got so far. I have been playing with the idea of another stanza, but I am not quite sure. Well, here it is.
On a large and bobbing barrel
In the middle of the sea,
Floats a wayward little sailor,
Drinking brackish tea.
Nevermore to hear the shouts
Of drunken men in tackless bouts.
Nor to hear of men’s fierce yells,
But instead the soft sea swells.
He shall float on salty foam,
‘Till he finds an island home,
And lay across its golden shore
Where worries bother him no more.
And in his mental sanitation,
On his fair and lonely isle,
To forget all men and deprivation,
And laugh a little while.