A Stately Old Ship

A Stately Old Ship The stately old vessel Limps weakly towards port As the rolling storm begins. Veracious vermin gnaw At its rotting hull, Destroying from within. Colors that once flew proud and strong In distant and exotic lands, Now flutter shamefully, Tattered and torn, Reflecting the flaws of man. With cheers of fading greatness, True patriots were scorned; Demagogues were lifted aloft, While the ship of state we mourned. But the old vessel was Made of sterner stuff By a different kind of man; Storms and vermin and rotting hulls It can easily withstand. Waiting in port, a fresh new crew Eager to take command; A new coat of paint, and fresh colors await, A proud ship of state's next stand. Eric LaMont Wattree Copyright ©2008 Eric LaMont Wattree wattree.blogspot.com I take great pride in being the product of adversity, because having simply survived provides me with unassailable credentials.

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