Anchors

Ink lings

In the cove, several boats are gathered
Sheltered from the harshness of the sea
Tempted by it’s call to go and join it
It coaxes them “come out and play with me” 

They sway from side to side as if to answer
Wanting to take flight upon the tide
Knowing not the dangers that await them
On decisions made in haste their futures ride 

For this reason each boat has an anchor
Making sure in safety they remain
Kept from floating off with no direction
Held securely by the anchor chain

As a child, I too faced temptations
Unaware of dangers not foreseen
Wanting to make all my own decisions
Ignorant of what my acts could mean 

I was drifting, I had no direction
Assuming I would always be OK
Dancing to the sound of my own music
Consequences falling where they may 

But like those boats I too had…

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About oldmainer

I am retired and live in southern Maine with my wife and two dogs. I started Oldmainer .wordpress.com as an outlet for my occasional opinions and random observations, with some poetry thrown in. I welcome anyone that wants to kick back and join me here on the porch, exploring all the gifts we have been given and the memories collected. Thanks for stopping by.
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