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Grounded on the Girl

There was a man who used to float

As if life were waves and he a boat

He had no anchor and showed no sails

But he’d a sturdy hull and well worn rails



He went wherever the current roamed

Even when it stormed and the ocean foamed

He’d watch the shore as it passed him by

But nothing on land ever caught his eye



Animals of all sorts played off his bow

And he’d stay and play as much as the sea would allow

Sometimes he’d drift out over the deep

But sometimes the bottom was only ten feet.



He never touched land, or let it touch him back

And he was just fine traveling, “Nothing wrong with that!”

“Life is about living, that much is clear.

And then one fine day I’ll just disappear.”



The very next day when the current was slow

It took him by a shore which he did not know

A fine spot of land, all green and beflowered,

“I won’t mind if I cruise by for the next several hours.”



Two hours passed and the lush landscape soured,

Jagged cliffs rose, the trees twisted and towered

Just before rounding a jutted out set of rocks

He looked up and saw a girl with raven locks



Her hair was so black it swallowed all of the light

Save what shone in her eyes, which were large with fright

She was alone and her feet close to the edge

And he realized quite quickly what lay ahead



“Don’t do it!” he yelled, “there’s rocks all around.”

But she was too high and the wind stole the sound

For the first time in years he looked back up the stream

He fought the waves, and white the seagulls screamed



She uttered no sound, nor did she cry

When the cliffs were suddenly rushing by

The water was cold, it went straight to her heart

But that organ was frozen and broken apart



That should have been it, goodbye consciousness

But a kind man saved her from the black abyss

She awoke on his deck, rocking with the swells

And there sat the man, known as Jim Travels



Her skin was tan and her eyes a pale blue

She wore a red dress, which was now soaked through

“Excuse me my friend, but what is amiss

why did you jump from the top off the cliffs?”



“My dad was a sailor, like his father before

They sailed in big ships and rarely came ashore

They lived on the sea and loved her completely

More than my mother, more than even me.



“My father’s mistress claimed him, and my mother too

I’m the last of my line, there’s one thing left to do

The sea will take all, she turns none away

My family will be whole, the sun sets on my day



“I’m sorry to ruin such a well laid plan

But surely there’s something you could do on the land?”

“I hear the same call my father heard from the sea’s spray

But when I tried to join crews, I was turned away.”



She looked at the vessel and looked at the man

And he knew what she’d ask before she began

“Your ship is strong, but there’s rust and it leans

Could I stay here and help you keep it oiled and clean?”



He was much older than she and held life’s pain on his brow

And while tragedy had touched her, she wore innocence’s crown

The thought of a companion only came in his dreams

But he saw just one choice, life is what it seems 



“You can’t come with me, I’m headed into the black

It’s too soon for you not to be coming back.

You’re young and you’re strong, the road’s wide and it’s long

Just stay near the sea and listen for my song.”



And then he did something he’d never done before

He grounded the boat so she could go ashore

Before she stepped off, to make her new found life grow

She kissed him with everything young love can bestow



The tide then swept in and pulled Jim Travels back

Out into the sea, from the blue to the black

The girl with ebony hair watched till he was out of sight

Then turned towards the trees knowing he’d been right



Jim Travels still travels, he never did disappear

But the girl’s time has passed, by two hundred years

Though on breezy days some say they see sails

Full canvas is showing, a raven haired girl’s at the rails





(This is an alternate ending for the last two lines, since I found this poem could mean other things.)

        "Though on breezy days some see out past the rocks

          The girl... the man... and his big blue box."
To become truly immortal, a work of art must escape all human limits: logic and common sense will only interfere. But once these barriers are broken, it will enter the realms of childhood visions and dreams. ::: Giorgio de Chirico :::