From the Shelf
From the shelf where she sat, she could gaze at the world,
And weigh the good and the bad.
From the shelf where she sat, through the glass, at a curve,
It seemed there was much fun to be had.
“But for me,” she sighed, “in this bottle all day,
My sails cannot take in the air!”
“For me,” she sighed, “it is same and safe,
Oh, to be on the sea out there!”
And the years passed by,
And the space grew small,
And her world seemed to hem her in.
She grew to despise it,
And those outside it,
A bitterness grew from within.
Yet one day, a careless brush of a sleeve
Sent her bottle crashing down.
Through the smash of the glass,
She cried, “Oh! Free at last!
What adventures are there to be found!”
Small hands scooped her up, with squeals of delight,
And carried her on her way.
A trip to the lake?
What a day that will make!
Come, let’s get underway!
And she trembled with joy,
As the careless young boy,
Cast her adrift on the water.
But her sails, stiff and cracked,
Knew not how to react,
Nor her rudder, in a glob of Testors.
His mother called, “See? I told you at home,
That ship was just for show.
An old project for Art, it will just come apart
In the water, now just let it go.”
So, he scampered away, to have his tea,
As the ship continued to float,
Nearly on her side, she seemed to be
Sinking slowly, sodden and soaked.
But if you had been able to see into the heart,
Of this vessel of cheap, painted wood
What joy you’d behold!
What emotions untold,
What a world she now understood!
‘For a life in a bottle is no life at all’,
She thought, as the sunset gleamed.
‘But to live but one day,
Sinking into the bay,
Is to know what freedom means.’
So she gazed at the sky,
As the moon rose high,
And the water closed over her mast.
No more locked away,
On the floor of the bay,
The ship found her harbor at last.
more by VK LYNNE
photograph by Hugo Kerr