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J. Allen Wilson

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Books by J. Allen Wilson
  I once wrote a poem about the old man and the sea and now I…
by J. Allen Wilson
Friday, May 11, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by J. Allen Wilson
•  A Tribute to Clint…
•  JD’s Rose - Nicole
•  Thank You Baby For Loving Me
•  A Birthday Prayer
•  Get Thee Behind Me Satan
           >> View all 1,552

I sit on the balcony of this hotel and look out at the sandy beach and search for Allen and there he sits alone, just a couple of feet from the ocean’s edge, staring out with a look of melancholy. When he comes in, I ask what the glum look upon his face was about and he just shrugs and hangs his head. And I know he is lost, lost in the past, lost to another time, another place.


I once wrote a poem about the old man and the sea and now I…

I, oh, I, have discovered that, that man is now me. Years ago I watched that old man as he sat in solitude in the sand and stared out at the open sea.

I wondered then about what was on his mind. Was it a last love lost in the vastness of space and time? What was it I thought as he stared hours on end at the horizons early summer haze?

Yet now I know as years later I too sit by this open sea, and I stare at ghost and the reflections of what I used to be.

I hear the waves yet in the solitude of the moment they are void to my ear. For I now hear with my eyes and by my heart I see.

Thus now I sit like the old man of afore and stare at an unseen shore. I taste the salt on my lips and I see life’s ghost as they sail on the endless sea…I see him now in me.

J. Allen Wilson © 5/11/2012

The Old Man And The Sea.

A few years back, but not too long ago.

I saw an old man who sat hours by the sea.

He sat there with a wistful stare and dreamy eyes.

Hour after hour he sat; alone in his thoughts.


I walked by a time or two and said hello and then goodbye.

Still he responded not and just stared out across the sea.

He uttered not a sound; the oceans gentle roar his only friend.

I wondered of his thoughts; I pondered deeply of his dream.

Yet I found no conclusion; no answers to this the old man and the sea.


The tide now came and went; and the old man just stared and wept.

Then without warning, he raised a crooked and gnarled hand.

And he waved a salutary wave at that unseen and distant land.

He then arose and turned his sunburned back to the open sea.

Not once did he turn for a last look as he disappeared in a small grove of trees.


Who was this old man, and who or what was it in his mind did he see?

Was he a warrior of some foreign war and in his last days reliving his grief?

Or was he just remembering when he was a young man who sailed the sea?

I guess that I will never know who the old man could be.


Yet as I too turned to walk away…I heard a song in my mind play.

“Brandy you’re’ a fine girl, but my life, my lover, my lady is the sea”.

Hmm I thought, could he be the one who brought Brandy the finest silver from the north of Spain?

Nah…it was just a song… or was it?


J. Allen Wilson 6/6/08


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Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
such a beautiful write--beautiful indeed!
Reviewed by neerja gandhi
ahhhh....made me cry..wonderful, beautiful and lovely picture i get..thank you and best wishes
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Very good reflective write, Allen; powerfully penned! Well done!

(((HUGS))), much love, and continued prayers~

As always, your friend in Texas, Karen Lynn.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
An interesting reflection. Years ago I used to find myself alone somewhere and just stare at the beauty of nature to help forget my troubles. These days I hardly stop writing to even reflect. But that day will come when I will just sit and stare and remember all that I miss.

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