Wind in MY Face
I have the need to feel wind in
my face just for fun not in a race.
The sound of my hull as it makes
love to the water while finding the rhythm as only
those in love can find.
The Sound of a great symphony played
through the shrouds played just for me and not the
crowd.
The simple pleasure of a tiller
held tight in my grip while the sun warms my soul
and the wind my lips.
The pleasure of white wings delivering
me to my past as the seas spray flows in and down
my chest.
Can pleasure be found while being
one with an inanimate object that takes on the illusion
of a soul?
Its here I find Leisure from life’s
storms, those to come and those in the past.
My anchor made ready with bitter
end knotted well, while it waits to hold my simple
craft in lifes impending gale.
The pleasure of wind found in my
face just for fun not seeking a race.
Though Life’s race must be
run weather sad for fun while dealing with the wind
from behind or on a run.
This pleasure is all mine just being
in this place with wind and sun basking my weathered
face.
The pleasure of my craft making
love to the sea, is the pleasures I find just living
you see.
My mast may be frail as well as
my sail; it’s the memory of my life that will
keep me anchored in life’s gale.
As the pleasure of life’s
Storms present and past give way to life’s peaceful
night of rest.
To sail in the Dark is not fearful
to me it awakens the senses and allows me to be set
free.
With one eye on the present and
one on the past will make the Pleasure of Life’s
Wind last and Last
I fell the need for wind on my face
just for fun and not in a race.
Ron Thweatt
2007
Captain Ron and a friend
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