A SAILOR FROM THE SEA
He was not a Viking, but a sailor from the sea,
And oh the emotion this drawing stirs in me,
Eyes that can tell tales without words spoken,
And his own heart a thousand times broken.
Bewhiskered face to protect from many a storm,
Oilskins and cork vest for safety forever worn.
Let me find him and sit closely to his knee
As he would tell a hundred tales of the cruel sea.
His home would be a fishing cabin built sturdily,
Be close to the life boats that go out constantly.
Of all th folks that Grandad drew he speaks sweet
Volumes as vivid tales I constantly want to meet
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 17 January 2005