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The Mariner and His Mistress
#1
He is worn, weather beaten.
Grizzled and twisted, the swaybacked toothless old mariner, bent by his mistress was.
His eyes sharp and bright; his cheeks blackened and leathered by a lifetime of riding wood and canvas.
Always on the hunt; striving, hoping, searching.
A lifetime.
No regrets.
Belying this ricketed shadow within dreams a lad. Forgotten, yes, but ever present.
It is He that squeals with each swell breached; spray plying its threat of oblivion looming,
It is He that descries a new dawn birthed and is in awe; the old man pauses and smiles.

Brows furrowed as eyes blink back sweat and brine as they always have.
Hands dance, nimble and gnarled, to tame an ebbing gale;
heavy calluses mocking the hemp, siped with the sea’s lashings.
Rigging complains, chiding a hull groaning in chorus. To the unlearned this would terrify but the adept, it comforts.
Like an old married couple will banter and mutter; love exchanging hands with every scowl and eyes rolled.
They are alive.
Each settled in their role.
The mariner, his mistress knows; his queen and first love always.
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#2
I dont get it.
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#3
(03-30-2016, 07:54 PM)BenderRodriguz Wrote: I dont get it.

The guy loves his boat Bender... lolslapcmon

~Kook
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