His face had been lashed by the whip of the wind
and white was his hair
The salt of the ocean had frosted his beard
once handsome and fair
His eyes were the green and the blue of the sea
and fathomless too
They seemed to be staring at some far-off land
that only he knew
His coracled hands with their pimples and warts
were ugly and dark.
The ropes he had knotted, the fish he had hooked
had left many a mark
He'd journeyed long distances. Seen many sights
and told many tales
of waves big as houses, of shipwrecks and rafts,
of dolphins and whales
I thought of the sailor I'd seen on the shore,
his days near their end
For all his adventures had happened, were REAL
and not just pretend
