My masts are engulfed in
flames that do not burn.
Scavenging pirates scatter,
empty-handed, with no booty they yearn.
St. Elmo, be with me,
a refugee from a hostile land –
a sailor of the sea.
Let the shadows cast their darkest deeds.
This torch blazing within is the weapon I need.
Guide me through waters unstable and stormy.
Find harbor for all in welcoming lands of sanctuary.
*St. Elmo is the patron saint of sailors.
**St. Elmo’s fire is a weather phenomenon of blue or purple plasma that has the appearance of fire. It’s considered to be a good omen.
This poem was inspired by a conversation I had with FlyTrapMan.
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