Poem: Blue, Specifically Navy.

Actually, I've made two poems as part of my English class, and I thought I'd share one of them, saving the other one for next week. This will also give me time to work on and finish a short story I've started, which although is not horror (unfortunately), I hope it will be great and otherwise enjoyable to read. Once it's finished I'll just run it by my two editing buddies... and maybe it'll be a good read! Anyway, until then, please enjoy this poem:

Blue, Specifically Navy

I use

Calligraphy pens with navy blue ink,

The thick and thins of flowing lines

From deep ink to rough expensive paper.

Not the thin, perfect airplane paper,

But a mountainous horizon of repurposed trees

So that the ink does not bleed through.

And although the smooth pen of plastic

With it’s old and rusty nib

Dips and sways into beautiful lettering,

All I can think of

Is quiet passing ships

On the sea.

The color of the ocean

A hundred feet below the shore.

Of seagulls and sea salt,

Of sailors suits and the bright sun

On the reflecting blue sea

And the white sparkling ships.

All this I think of only

From the simple color of the ink.

Navy blue, it seems, is so easily forgotten

In old men’s suits

And the night sky

When no one is looking.

  

Thanks for reading! Stay warm!

Your sadistic friend, 

Layla.