PEA GREEN QUEEN.

The rocking boat
the pea green stance
the violin
the vials dance
and trickle down wet worn skin
into water
diluting sin.

The crooked boat
the poets play
the oars on both sides
now in affray
bashing hard and beating water
to save me from
wandering from her.

Closer closer closer still
with withered hope and free will
the crooked boat
its drifting dew
to end its wanders
and doubts for new.

The poet sits
and writes some lines
but the letters translate
into vines
the water trickles
onto words
they are not needed
to cure these hurts.

The poet sits
its all thats needed
for this crooked boat
so poorly treated.
With passion and fire
it has been heated
and with wary haste
the two are greeted.

A united front
in shy smiled haste
this boat and poet
full of grace
take to the lake
to find new parts
of themselves
and of their hearts.

These beating, bashing oars on blue
thus keep me from wandring from you.
The reign holds me in,
the warmth of my queen
who drifted lonely
as a boat pea green.