This is another oldie. You may recognise the references in the first couple of verses - thereafter it goes its own way. I'm still not satisfied with this one after many attempted re-writes, but reflecting on it now, maybe it's not so bad... Still, comments, suggestions and questions are welcome.

Storms and Wrecks:

If all our fires were fuelled by wrecks,
each shattered vessel would provide
a blaze, and all the splintered decks
would warm our shivered selves inside.

But this is not the way of things:
The wrecks bring wetted wood ashore,
and shattered hopes and drowning dreams,
so I shall welcome storms no more.

You slipped this port some time ago
and sailed a hopeful course to sea,
but though I see you founder - no,
I shall not call you home to me...

as sirens drew men to the reef,
unfeeling as they lost their all.
No, I'll not prosper from your grief,
but whisper, and I'll hear your call.

So, weep your storm or cry to me -
this port's not inundated yet.
Though you are never weak to me,
remember - I will not forget:

When storms would shatter you and all
your timbers on the angry sea,
you still shall hear this welcome call:
Your shelter I would always be.

Roy

I won't even pretend this is good poetry, but the message is valid:

Leap

A man with perfect pitch who will not sing and doesn't play;
a woman of great beauty who will hide herself away;
another woman blessed with brains who sets her sights too low -
so many unfulfilling lives, but how are we to know?

Unless we spread our wings and try to leap from where we are
we'll never know if we can fly, or if we can, how far.
Unless we test the limits of our courage and our art
we all live little lowly lives, and lose before we start.

Roy

Stephen Fry

Just a silly rhyme...

When I'm tired, I'm dull and dim;
when wide awake I'm witty,
but never am as bright as him -
by lightyears, more's the pity.

Roy