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The Winged Mariners. - Your WRITES

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The Winged Mariners.

Through the wild night, the silence and the dark,
Through league on league of the uncharted sky,
Lonelier than dove of fable from its ark,
The fieldfares fly.

Mate with his tiny mate, and younglings frail,
That only knew the crevice of their tree
Until, in faith stupendous, they set sail
Across the sea.

The black North Sea, that takes such savage toll
Of ships and men--and yet could not appal
These little mariners, who seek their goal
Beyond it all.

Turning those soft, indomitable breasts
To meet the unchained Titans of the deep--
Calm, as if cradled in Norwegian nests,
Their course they keep.

No more than thistledown or flake of snow
To those great gods at play, they win the game;
Never sped archer's arrow from his bow
With surer aim.

Still tossed and scattered, their unwinking eyes
Point to that pole unseen where wanderings cease;
Still on they press, and warble to the skies
With hearts at peace.


Wow. I like this a lot. Beautiful imagery!


Agreed! Simply well put & beautiful.



yes, beautiful one.


Vary nice .......

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