Song of Breeze

Again, again I hear the sound And feel the smell of ship’s playground Where I have spent half life at seas And more “Eyes front!” than “Stand at ease!” And Life itself was measured value Upcoming with the catchcry: “Hey, you!” Oh, yes, we were what’s called “fresh springs” With fancy-schmancy earings, And waves that rocked ship up-n-down Carried away us from hometown! Remember Gulfstream’s gutty waters, Remember wives, and brides, and daughters, Remember mothers, sons and fathers, Remember friends and many others?!. … Time passed away, we all ashore… Where’s our ships we dreamed before? The only thing I ever miss – That smell of salt, and youth, and breeze…