A Tribute to a Old Salt....

This tribute was sent to me from an old shipmate and friend Mark in Chesapeake VA.

 

*Old Sailors sit and chew the fat *
*'bout how things use to be,
of the things they've seen *
*and places they've been,
when they ventured out to sea. *
**
*They remember friends from long ago *
*and the times they had back then, *
*of the money they've spilled *
*and the beer they've swilled *
*in their days as sailing men.*
* *
*Their lives are lived in days gone by , *
*with thoughts that forever last,
of Dixie cup hats and bell bottom blues, *
*and the good times in their past.*
* *
*They recall long nights *
*with a moon so bright *
*far out on a lonely sea,
and thoughts they had *
*as youthful lads *
*when their lives were unbridaled and free.*
* *
*They know so well how their hearts would swell *
*when the flag fluttered proud and free, *
*and the stars and stripes made such beautiful sights *
*as they plowed through an angry sea.*
* *
*They talk of the bread *
*Ole Cookie would bake *
*and the shrill of the bo'sun's pipe, *
*and how the salt spray *
*fell like sparks out of hell *
*when a storm struck in the night. *
**
*They remember mates already gone *
*who forever hold a spot *
*in the stories of old when sailors were bold *
*and lubbers a pitiful lot. *
**
*They rode their ships **through many a storm *
*when the sea was showing its might, *
*and the mighty waves might be digging their graves *
*as they sailed on through the night.*
* *
*They speak of nights in a bawdy house *
*somewhere on a foreign shore, *
*and the beer they'd downed *
*as they gathered around *
*cracking jokes with a busty whore.*
* *
*Their sailing days are gone away, *
*never more will they cross the brow, *
*but they have no regrets *
*for they know they've been blessed *
*'cause they honored their sacred vow.*
* *
*Their numbers grow less with each passing day *
*as their chits in this life are called, *
*but they've nothing to lose *
*for they've paid their dues *
*and they'll sail with their shipmates again.*
* *
*I've heared them say *
*before getting underway *
*that there is still some sailing to do, *
*and they'll exclaim with a grin *
*that their ship has come in,
and the Lord is commanding the crew.*


Live life looking through the windshield, not the rearview mirror.
"Gunner"