WAVING FAREWELL
The season's final shot rang out,
Regatta to begin.
Our boat was strong; we knew the route,
Assured that we would win.
The fleet flew flags in every hue,
A seaborne rainbow scene.
Our spinnaker flapped red and blue,
But I was turning green.
The skipper held fast to the sheet;
He shouted out, "Jibe Ho!"
The boom spun round; I lost my feet
And felt my stomach blow.
I sprawled upon the starboard rail
And pitched over the side.
The first mate, he began to bail,
While looking on, tongue-tied.
The skipper tacked us back to shore,
Thus giving up our lead.
My shame complete, forevermore,
The season to concede.
This sailor learned a lesson tough;
Of this, I have a hunch.
If we set sail, when waves are rough,
I'd better hold my lunch!
Learn more about this author, Linda Ann Nickerson.
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Poetry: A sailor's tale
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