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Poem

There is a young man who loved the sea
He could read the stars and winds by age three
He loved to venture along the Alaska shores
Leaning the ocean at the age of four
He would read of the sea and mother natures storms
How quickly, from nowhere, the clouds could form
He was ready to go at an early age
But school would be the turning page
As a small boy, he had dreams of the sea
A captain of a ship was what he would be
School work and parents were the anchors on land
His thoughts were to be a sea sailing man
At night he would dream of being at sea
Salt water in his face, his thoughts were free
His sea shells were falling from his nightstand jar
Still wearing his pajamas, he didn't get far
But this little sailor will set sail someday
He's learning to be a captain along the way
Yes, one day, he'll have his boat
But for now, in the tub, the plastic ones float
He may be small, but ideas are big
When he sets sail one day, he will control the rig
Big white sails full of wet summer breeze
This grown-up man now holds the sea.

William L Pickard
Photo provided by Carolyn Muscle
The sailor is Wallace Johnson, her grandson.

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