The Captain and I

With the palms of well-worn leathery hands that in younger days guided a Tall Ship round the globe many times with the help of stars that still twinkled in his eyes, the old man made a porthole in the frosty forest of swirling ferns that had been painted on the kitchen window pane by Jack-Frost during the night. As I sat on his lap, he told me the creaking sound made by the rockers from the rocking chair we sat in on the hardwood floor - if he closed his eyes, could make him believe he was back with the wind in his sails, rising and dipping and swaying with the whims of the waves ‘ore the sea. Back- and- forth, back-and-forth, we rocked as the porthole on the window pane grew larger, exposing the winter wonder land outside where trees and roads and roof-tops lie frozen beneath a layer of fluffy snow that looked like icing on a birthday cake, as the house softened and swelled in the warmth of the burning kindling wood that snapped and crackled in the stove. Rocking back-and-forth, back-and-forth, I asked him, looking into those eyes of green, with that far away look. “Grandpa, won’t you tell me please, what lies beyond the sea?” He paused for a moment, blowing silver halos that rose from his pipe in an aroma of sweet smelling ‘Old Sail’ tobacco, and with the magic of his words, he took me on a journey, rocking across the sea where he showed me all the places and wondrous things he’d ever seen. That was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, where an old man, taught a little girl, that life is but a dream. ~~~~~ In memory of: Captain James George the Third - My Grandfather ~~~~~ 2nd place in 'Anything Goes #2 Contest - sponsered by Constance La France Author's note: This is one entry of many that will appear in my next book ' A Journey of Roses and Thorns'. They are true events that have happened in my life - some where roses, some were thorns. I have learned valuable lessons from both.