I am finally attempting a decent response to Brain Vos’s prompt this week: to use one of his sets of unfinished lines and finish it. His lines form the first quatrain of my poem.
Though captains come and go,
the ships can still sail on.
Though ships have found the bottom,
the destinations are not gone.
Through swirling storms of woe,
the North Star still exists.
Through batterings of the waves,
one escapes from ocean’s fists.
Though waters may be calm,
night lingers on the sea.
Sky shows a glorious star,
shining from a place of victory.

This is great, I love how you kept the imagery going with this one. I really like “one escapes from ocean’s fists”
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steer well and be of good cheer
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