An Oldie But A Goodie

Perhaps I remember too well how
August ended in snow or
How Lighthouses deceived me or
When I felt empty in Scotland

I am loathe to dock on convenient
Shores;
Finding the first inviting harbor
Yet I know no other way
Fear of whipping winds or
Sails long fallen limp --
Keeps me at bay

For fear of feeling penetrating cold,
Watching flurries of flakes,
I burned my rigging and set fire to the deck
Yet again; Despite pretending
Winter was rain-soaked snow drifts

I long for forbidden routes and
Exotic ports;
Deep bays and long docks on sunny shores
Blue waters on warm skin
Where I can finally rest
And depart again
But not alone.

[Keep following because I have to admit, it's getting better. All the time.]