Pond(ering)

Last weekend Aerin found John Masefield’s Sea Fever and read it aloud while I was sanding down lumps of solid epoxy. It was kind of her to keep me company, and the poem spoke to me, but I realized it had NOTHING to do with the feelings I was after, and the reasons I was building a boat. So I rewrote it for myself.

With Apologies to John Masefield:

I must go out on the pond again, to the place near the river bend
and all I ask is a small ship, some wind, and maybe a friend;
and the rudder bangs, and the breeze whispers, and the tan sail flapping
and the shining sun on the midday pond, and hungry ducks quacking

I must go out on the pond again, for the call of the being afloat
is a strange thing, a persistent thing, and only requires a boat
and all I ask is a breezy day, with clouds quickly skimming
and the children shriek and the paddles flash, and the wild geese swimming

I must go out on the pond again, but only the afternoon
for the pond is small, and close to home, and I’ll be coming back soon
and all I ask is a tasty supper, from the bbq shack on the way
and a quick unload and peaceful nap, at the end of a sunny day


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