Sailing Lunulata

Sailing Lunulata

It’s been seven days
of sun and laughter
sailing Lunulata.
The wind blew us through days
of silky waters,
sticky heat
and vineyard quilted islands.

With each new anchorage
came a new underwater scene.
Some sandy seabeds eight metres below;
others harbouring rocks
alive with urchins
and starfish pasted to the ridges.
We listen to our breath
as we snorkel through turquoise waters
and laze in hammocks
to tropical tunes.

Most reach for the sun-rays
to warm and bronze their skin.
Others wear caps and T-shirts
and nestle into the shade.
We make our muscles feel sweet
with sun cream lathered into bare backs
and chat until our jaws
ache on their hinges.

On the foredeck,
Ruby soaks in Maya Angelou’s words
as Laura draws from her vape
and giggles at the silly things she says.
Salt curls Steve’s hair
into sea-breeze locks
as Iain lies back on a paddle board
with a beer in his hand.
We watch impressed
as Pete steers us through the Med —
Libby by his side
swaying contentedly beside
fish and the sea.

As breakfast folds into lunch,
coffee runs into wine.
We lick our fingers clean
of flakey pastries
and salads drenched in dressing
fresh from the seasoned galley.

At night,
we dive naked into the black sea.
Meteors scrape our atmosphere
as phosphorescent plankton
shake fairy dust
around our waving feet.

With an exhale,
we drip back onto the deck
and curl up beneath
the specks of light in the sky
and under duvet sheets.
We fall asleep mid-smile,
ready for another day
of hoisting the sail.

Maisie Siret

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