Pick Up The Wind And Off You Go! Poem by Slobodan Luchezarny

The waves are high over the bow,
The horizon is rocking hard,
Ship’s navigation is an art
Plus skills, experience and drive!
Having all this you will survive,
If lucky, too, in stormy waters,
And paradise has no more quotas,
As for the hell, you’ll find it here,
On ship’s deck life is simple, mere,
Though, it makes a little mad:
You’re either good or you are dead!
The sea will have your guts for garter
To make you sorry for time charter!
The Earth rotates under the keel
At depth from 1 to 3 miles still
And salty words are just told out
Between the deck and low clouds…