A sonnett

as a sailor heading out into the sea

I can steer for no other place

a mean gale blowing across my face

High winds save me, I require the breeze

The Sun breaks the clouds, but it’s only a tease

Life could seem so easy on the corporate tack

…But even my 5th hurricane won’t turn me back

It must be a Mexican island, in the distant horizon

But the expansive waters I see, feel like heaven to me

I don’t care when ocean wants to play rough

Just a little, even more, is never enough!

So we start next year hunting  the gray whale

Not for oil or food, But for the sight of her tale

As we slip silently in the ocean, full with sail

We could just continue heading south, sneeking some Ale

alas we can not, with a the sea sick client puking in our pale.