This week’s word is Horizon
Ghosts of the Seven Seas
O lover of mine, O Lily my love, I sail to thee across the sea
‘Neath a gown of stars twinkling in a mannequin sky,
O’er tumbling waves to the beckoning lantern
Of a lighthouse tall on a distant horizon.
I pass Christmas islands and frozen shores,
Cross coral reefs as pink as your lips and blue as your eyes,
To find you my love, O Lily my love,
I’m so sorry I’m late – but I have been to war.
A war which wounded me yet claimed without success my beating heart;
For each battle with invaders, charlatans and thieves,
Each duel with a demon and dance with a devil,
Did but strengthen my love and desire for thee.
Is it too late? I call out across the waves to the pirate breeze,
For I feel I am a ghost upon a ghost ship,
Sailing to deliver the gold ingots of my soul,
And all the trinkets and treasures of my pining heart.
Is it too late? for the lips of Lily to press mine in tender kiss,
For our arms to embrace, for our fingers to caress?
Is our love so far, so stretched, so tempered, so drowned and diluted
By all this sea which cruelly divides us?
Replies the pirate breeze: Ye poor fool captain upon the deck
Of your vessel bereft of direction and crew,
Ye seek the kiss of your living lover? Well, let me tell you the cold truth:
Your Lily died while you were at war, and is nought but a ghost
The same as you.
Poem: by Ford.
Image: La Tartane by Francis Bergèse. Heller catalogue 606. 1979. France.
PS: I love you
PPS: **if they smile at you thru sharpened fangs*and no matter how much they dress up their lies with fake gold*know that the truth will always sting*know only you can set yourself free*and see beyond the misery of what they want you to be*question everything*question it all**
PPPS: Look after my star