Get me through the day, O Lord
The seas have gone awry,
Three men have vanished overboard
And waves are two masts high.
The sky now scowls angry black
And lightening scars ‘is face,
The wind does vary his attack
But blows a fearsome pace.
Frenetic sea fanged mountain crests
Rise up upon each side,
Then yawning so to heart arrest—
Dark gorges open wide.
One minute seems we go straight up,
Another we face down,
An extra push then we breakup
And we shall surely drown.
My stomach spent its’ heaving job
And brine stings red each eye,
I hug the stay and pray to God
For we seem set to die.
Where does the grace of heaven go
When ocean furies rage,
Of plank and pitch each sailor knows
Is paid the devils’ wage.
There strafed by wind and flogged by wave
I raise my weary head
And see the tall masts’ royal yard
Against wroth skies of dread.
It was a sign I’d yearned to see,
That cross from out the storm,
I saw tomorrow where I’d be,
I knew that I’d be home.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.
Loubert S Suddaby poems 