Marina

At the marina in Hout Bay
expensive and fancy pleasure yachts were
lying on the surging swell
with water lapping at their bows
safe in a small harbour

and many times did I long
to be on one of those small ships,
to live such a pleasure filled life,
but it came to me how inconsequential
a live of wealth can be

as if my words, my reality
would loose all substance
while I witnessed fog sweeping in from the sea
blotting out each lovely drifting form

and still I had more horizons to explore,
had more words to write,
had more places to go
and things to experience,
as if my sails had to be set
into a world where storms rage
far from the sheltering
of a safe harbouring place.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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