When the Morning Comes This

When the morning comes this,
I’ll know what love is.

The tide is high, but the water slow.
And the sun up high is beaming low.

The night is full of drinks and drug,
and only when the morning comes is my sober heart rung.

When the morning comes this,
I’ll know you,
like a gentle morning ray
on a leaf clad in dew.

At night, I see no leaf.
But I promise, the morning won’t make me lose belief.

When the morning comes this,
the Sun will shine,
all will be fine.

I weathered the night and the storm of ‘mares
There goes she, my lady fair.

© achillesheelpoetry, 2022

Nefarious Northanger

Now I must give one smirk, and then we may be rational again.
Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey

She goes now to the sleepless couch,
and treads a delicate step.
And then shall she look all around-
A heroine in a world of men.

There is but little that is learnt,
apart from to drink from ten to ten,
and never rever those alive
until we find them in the dead.

A Sailor’s Soliloquy

Drunken, beaten, back we’re borne.
I was on ice,
now it’s the shore.

Days of sail and incessant sun.
I miss the mast and fear it sunk.
Yet, at sea, I always miss
green meadows and a fairy’s kiss.

Oh, sweet breezes, that hail pirates sublime!
Too much salt can make the heart saline.