What Say, Moonboat?

A few days ago, as I sat at my desk working on my French assignment, my dear friend, out of the blue, texted me the single most beautiful I have ever heard: what say, moonboat?

It’s funny: I never in a million years would have thought that three little words on a bright screen could be a cause for a monstrous flood of inspiration, here we are! Excuse me if it seems a little nonsensical, the message in its nature held very little meaning, and I ran with it! So, without further ado, I present to you the first poem I’ve written in a long time: "What Say, Moonboat?"

What Say, Moonboat?

I’m convinced he fell from the sky,

Struck down with the force of a lightening bolt

From the spacious heavens where he roamed before.

A god among common men

With bright blazing eyes,

A crescent moon half-smile,

And starlight streaked hair.

I worship him.

I fall to my knees before him.

I clasp my hands and pray,

“Oh mighty God!

You have blessed me with your presence,

Healed this broken world by merely standing upon it,

Brought us peace,

Gave us light,

Loved me like I have never loved myself.”

He smiles.

He knows.

He lets it get to his head.

And he uses it,

And abuses it,

And says he loves you but he means it in another way.

But she’ll stay on her knees,

Praying, begging, hoping he’ll love her,

Relentlessly hoping he’ll love her.

And who knows what will happen?

But for now, it’s a ‘no.’