Post by alfredo on Feb 3, 2008 16:32:35 GMT -5
Drifting near
holding the looped rope, frowning.
Wait! For ups and downs to dissipate.
Swaying away.
2 loops to take the strain,
this and a single propeller,
urge boat n' pontoon back together.
Snake n' snap about the capstan.
Bump along the wooden wharf.
Vibrating, singing, stretched rope.
Now cast about a figure eight.
Bringing gently parallel ‘till
gates align as they should.
Desolate passengers gaze
from darkened discs.
Off they go
on they come.
Devonport
to Queens Wharf.
Powered propellers,
push water from each side.
And a distant skiff, pulling fast.
Pulsing diesel,
slipping past
the many yachts,
that charge for Devonport .
She rides up and down between
line an' sky;
hair dances about her neck
as she stares
down at the churning water.
Sun shadows the yellow bag
she wears for the occasion-
Waitangi Day.
holding the looped rope, frowning.
Wait! For ups and downs to dissipate.
Swaying away.
2 loops to take the strain,
this and a single propeller,
urge boat n' pontoon back together.
Snake n' snap about the capstan.
Bump along the wooden wharf.
Vibrating, singing, stretched rope.
Now cast about a figure eight.
Bringing gently parallel ‘till
gates align as they should.
Desolate passengers gaze
from darkened discs.
Off they go
on they come.
Devonport
to Queens Wharf.
Powered propellers,
push water from each side.
And a distant skiff, pulling fast.
Pulsing diesel,
slipping past
the many yachts,
that charge for Devonport .
She rides up and down between
line an' sky;
hair dances about her neck
as she stares
down at the churning water.
Sun shadows the yellow bag
she wears for the occasion-
Waitangi Day.