how every word crashes into you,
threatens to capsize you,
flaps at your mainsail,
sends your boom flying across a bow,
leaving your cowering on the deck,
begging for the storm to pass.
Aim for port, where words
are bulwarked by the breakwater,
and tides are tempered.
We’ll tie up in safety;
favorite lines…”Aim for port, where words
are bulwarked by the breakwater,”
🙂 Thanks for stopping by today!
Words in the harbour of solace can relieve the flying boom of excoriation.
Oooh! Excellent word! 🙂
Oh, this is wonderful, Shawn! So many great lines!
Thanks, Lauren! I appreciate you stopping by today!