“Tempest of the Bold” by Ken Allan Dronsfield

By the waves I felt the storm

shall Death bring his scythe?

Eagerly I looked for cover;

loud thunderstorms drumming

from the tempest that is blowing. 

‘It’s that beat,’ I mutter steering;

that vicious, vicious pounding,

rushing tidal surge never exhaling

I sing a splendid, sudden simoom

screech loud than the tearing sails

crave the becalmed, blowy bellows! 

I ignore the smashing, severe rains;

take thy lashing from out of my heart.

I threw its ghost into the gunnels

Await the defeated, dreich drum,

here stands that unflustered sailor.

Steering ​my ship to Davy Jones himself.


Ken is a disabled veteran and prize winning poet from New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He has five poetry collections to date; ‘The Cellaring’, ‘A Taint of Pity’, ‘Zephyr’s Whisper’, ‘The Cellaring, Second Edition’ and ‘Sonnets and Scribbles’. Ken’s been nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize and six times for Best of the Net. His poetry took the First Place Award for the 2018 and 2019, Realistic Poetry International Nature Poetry Contests. Ken’s latest endeavor is as a Content Creator on Youtube, crafting special poetry videos weekly. Ken loves writing, hiking, thunderstorms, and spending time with his cats Willa and Yumpy.

Image Credit

One comment

  1. When I study, read, or write I like to play the sounds of a thunderstorm or viking inspired music in the background. Sometimes both at the same time! This poem was perfect with my music and vice versa. I felt transported to the ship and could easily smell the brine, hear thunder crack with the waves crashing down in their fury, and the wind howling in rage. Best of all, the defiant tone of the sailor at the end reminded me of what it is to fight and to not give into my own life struggles, even when things seem impossible or difficult. This made me want to conquer my own storm of chores and work with the same determination the sailor showed. My response might not have been the intention of the author, but thank you nonetheless Mr. Dronsfield for this poem.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.