ON a ship's poop I'd like to lie, if I could have my way, With over it the weather-cloths, thumped loudly by the spray; A sputtering fire between two stones, edging it like a mound, A pot perched on them, boiling brisk, with bubbling empty sound; An unwashed cabin-boy to serve; for table I would make Use of some handy plank; maybe a game of give and take With sailors gossiping around . . . Lately this chanced to me, Who always find myself at home in simple company. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHELTERED GARDEN by HILDA DOOLITTLE HYMN TO THE NIGHT by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW AWAKENING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE RAKE'S PROGRESS by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB SUPPLICATION (2) by ALICE CARY |