A Sailor’s Poetry

Might have had a wee dram before writing this one

I can see New York in the light of the dawn, And the sun is rising slow We made love all night; we can’t make love anymore It was wonderful, but now I must go

You have always been my friend Whether I came in by ship or by train Feeling lost in Manhattan, you would always come to me Through the streets of New York in the sun or the shining rain

There are those who stumble, trip, and then there are those who fail Men like me who will never know where one must go to win Because there are those who fight for their freedom and their love And there are men like me — who drink, and sail, and who fuck just to sin

In my dreams, I walk with you to the shore Laying you down by the tempting sea And when we lay on the sand, we kiss, and you take my hand That’s when I want you to make love to me

But now I must go, it’s always been that way In the morning when dawn is on the rise When we see the world completely, always in blue and green But now my ship is waiting, and I must go, for out there is life’s surprise

The Cape of Horns, archipelago, where Pacific and Atlantic meet But I promise, before this year is done And if the sails are full and the world being round I’ll be back, my eyes full of wonder, and we’ll lie again under the sun

Postscript

There are cliche thoughts about sailors stemming, in my mind, from the last great war. Once the war was over, many were bereft of moral behavior, having seen things so awful that life would never be quite the same; it would be lived differently, taking the best of everything and moving on. Not the kind of man to be loved or settle down with.

Harry lives in California, was raised in Scotland, and has written since he was a teenager.

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Thanks for reading.