The Abandoned Work Boat

This poem was written to go with the accompanying pencil drawing by the artist Paul McGehee.


In a field, near an old broken pier,
Set the remnants of an abandoned work boat.
The frame worn and sheered, reflected its years,
Several pylons kept it afloat.

Called Viola, its reflection told ya,
It had once served superfluously.
Its bows lined with tires were subtle reminders,
Of its yeoman austerity.

Viola was old and stories were told,
Of how prominent and noble it had been.
What would it take, to reinvigorate,
This once mighty sea dog again?

With a little TLC, this work boat could be,
The resurrection of its once vibrant past.
When it trolled the bay, for its catch each day,
Of crabs, blue fish, oysters and bass.

So many today are retired, put away,
Laid off like Viola in their time.
Our country's become an unemployed kingdom,
Where many have not reached their prime.

It's sad to see so many worthy,
Standing in employment lines.
The hypocrisy of bureaucracy,
Has become our nation's worst crime.

So many folks live with so much to give,
Yet haven't the means to survive.
They struggle to eat and make ends meet,
Find shelter and just stay alive.

Sure jobs exist, on paper and lists.
Yet it all seems like one big charade.
Those who've applied are routinely denied,
While those considered aren't paid.

Given a chance, the old boat could enhance,
Lives with so many mouths to feed.
It could be her way to earn her own pay,
Provide for so many in need.

So Viola received a spiritual reprieve,
Was restored and soon prospered again.
She overcame strife, found a virtual new life,
Is no longer worthless or abandoned.


Copyright © November 2010
Kevin Mooney

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