The Sound of Her Tears ~ a poem by Mark Andrews.
Long ago I was a sailing man,
I sailed the ocean blue.
I knew the bars in Singapore
An’ the coastline of Peru.
Well knew I the sting of salty spray,
An’ the taste of Italian wine,
Oh, the beauty of the Orient ~
Yes, yes, all of these things were mine.
Oftentimes did stand I
Upon the deck of that ship heaving
With her fine keel under me
An’ the distant purple shoreline leaving
But I wear a different cap now,
Shirt an’ dungarees, too.
My sailing days art long since past
With that life, that I once knew.
But somewhere deep inside of me,
The sailor lives there still.
He longs to go to sea again,
But knows that he never will.
For my love sleeps now within her grave,
So my life is here at home.
Weeping by her barrow mound,
No more will I ever roam.
Oh, to once again taste her sweet kisses,
An’ relive with her the youth of our years.
Her soft hand my heart doth misses,
An’ to hear the sound of her tears.
But by her grave, I will forever stand;
An’ I will leave here never.
Though mind and body stay ashore,
My heart’s at sea forever.
—–
Cover art : Old sea captain (stock photo).