my sailor's running wild now, against the angry sea,
aye, it is the very place, that he most loves to be,
my sailor's loving smooth and deep, upon the waves in me,
aye, i'll always meet him there, in our water reverie
we left the boats upon the shore, a distant song to hear,
sung by crabs and seahorses, inside the seashell's ear,
hand in hand we walked, where wild dune grass grows,
a moment's bliss, we reminisced, with sand between our toes
upon those beaches far away, that only whispers know,
we spoke the words we couldn't say, into the water's flow,
they drifted off, with nary a care, upon the caps of white,
and nestled in, where moonlight grins, for a quick respite
my sailor, you know, those lines on your face, I could never see,
for you always bring out, from within, the very best of me,
my sailor, you know, I care not, that my own you cannot be,
anchored as you are, to a northern star, upon a northern sea
aye, leave it here, upon the island, of this deserted heart,
and board the boat, left on the shoal, when you do depart,
i know the way, aye, don't dismay, back to the solid ground,
i'll get by alright, as a mermaid wife, along the southern sound
my sailor man, it's your rugged face, that i'll love until my death,
i'll glimpse it there, in cool night air, when taking my last breath,
i'll know one day, when the music stays, that you have gone to sea,
yet you'll live forever, no matter the weather, within the likes of me
Ron
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Only to discover
I was sailing in circles
Reading this poem over and over again
A sailor's vogage never seems to end.
Anna
Fee
Newfie hugs, Rose
You excel in this lovely lilting ballad, the story unfolded romantically and with tints and twinges of longing and regret.
John