Poetry Month #19: The Terror of the Sea

Alright, I don't know what it is with me and long oceanic ballads recently. If you don't like long oceanic ballads with tragic elements, I apologize. This one is actually linked to the very different one I wrote on day 17, and I actually might write more poetry that adds to this set of stories.

The Terror of the Sea Day #19

Mist rises where the ocean hits the sand

A shadowed figure rises from the foam

What is this scourge upon the coastal land

That it should freely in the village roam

Mist follows where the shadowed scourge presides

And fishing lines hang useless from the dock

The beach more barren than at highest tides

And whispers in each home replacing talk

Mist penetrates an attic’s feeble walls

An aging lady and her daughter’s son

Reside within, and at the sight she falls

As pale as bones bleached on the sand by sun

Mist creeps to shroud her form senseless and still

And rushing in, the youth freezes in fear

Full knowing he must face the source by will

To free her and the others living near

Mist pouring through the weathered wooden chinks

He forms a plan and braces not to flee

The nearness of the fiend makes his heart sink

But tenfold is its power by the sea

Mist towers menacing and welcomes in

The vague and awful shape from depths unknown

It reaches out, to strike him down and win

The youth’s sole weapon is himself alone

Mist halts at his resolved yet shaking voice

For of the lore he knows to beg a trade

For all the rest offers himself by choice

Taken to satisfy a debt unpaid

Mist drifts away above the mellow waves

The village wakens as from weeks of night

The boy below alive and suffering slaves

To grant his home another span of light


©2020 by Clara Harney Writes. Proudly created with Wix.com

This site was designed with the
website builder. Create your website today.
Start Now