A gift from my dear Tasha:
Little ship, from the east
As you fly from the sun
Do you fear, in the least
For the race you’ve begun?
I can see, little ship
And quite well do I know
How your nose, with its tip,
Cuts the waves as you go.
Do not laugh, little ship,
Till your sides split in two;
For if they dropped apart
Then pray what could we do?
Who would help, little ship?
Would the waves? Or some elf?
Or if not, do you think,
I could fix you myself?
Little ship, from the east
When your voyage is done,
Do not doubt in the least
That your course was well run.
QUEEN MARIE OF ROUMANIA, 1929
Turquoise Marmara 