A step close to the ocean sea, fairy-tales lay
Where I am to be made, held to crown
The fisher of my dreams
I have travelled far, to get to this shore
I have walked through the forest
Battled beast and many more
I have escaped the trenches
Dug by my foe, wishing my fall
I have prayed for fresh water
To quench my taste
I have sweated, buckets full
And sucked my shirt, so I walk without
Finally, I saw the shore line
And blessed, there in sight, stood a boat waiting
This would be my fortune change
I am to be made the fisher of my dreams
Little did I, think to look this late
Why put quicksand my way, this late, this close
Why, so close to fairy-tales
But know this, foe of sand, before the tide I will sail
Before the night falls, I will cast my net
Excellent ekphrasis!
ReplyDeleteI hope he can. It all looks pretty much a done deal for him as he can't use his arms or legs though :)
ReplyDeleteFisher of my dreams- I like that and the determination of the speaker is strong. Lovely read
ReplyDeletewho is putting quicksand in your way? nice metaphor.
ReplyDeleteExcellent ekphrasis indeed!
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Nice imagery indeed.
ReplyDelete