In the garden I ran aground
Compass lost among the sounds
Of singing crooks and adverts loud
I poked the holes among my sails,
I volunteered those dusty sails
battling fish who were eating whales,
Trying to make sense of ancient tales.
Never ran aground before
in a garden that actually wanted more
where plants withered, but held to hope, or
handed me any sturdy ropes,
I'd never seen roses sing
though swayed in the sea and
with valiant cries, call out to me.
So we tried to sever the rusty parts...
and tied the rope fast to my creeking mast,
to bring the wind to meet the sea
to bring your mind to meet with me,
to give my ship a second start:
a Tether on my lonesome heart.
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