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The Sailor
by
Charilette Rai Sweeney
Somewhat less than imposing, his now frail frame belies
the strength more than evident in his steely hard gray eyes
In his face lines have worn deep from so many years
of marking every expression and mapping every tear
Now he can only gaze at her from upon the sandy shore
his entire being filled with the sound of her awesome roar
She casts a bewitching spell with a love so rare
with whom no mortal woman could ever hope to compare
Eyes longing, soul yearning
spirit willing, heart burning
Yet sometimes it all seems all too much to bear
now bound to dry land by a hard, cold metal chair
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