Don Johnson Poet Rhyme

Portugee Sailor

The draw of the tide...
tugs away inside...
remembered rekindled emotion...
lived on the water ...
remember i ought...
Portugese, on the ocean..

cabin boy ..
on a 3 masted schooner...
we lived on salted pork...
the maggots they walked...
red meat went rotten the sooner..

In Timor it's said ..
we'd get fresh bread...
more chillies, beer by the jug..
first mate was casting the lead..
fathoms testing...
as into  the harbour we lugged...

sailing round the Cape Horn ..
suicide borne..
over the side water torn..
ironic the twist
sinking forlorn....
no one there to mourn
drowning there did I exist...  :)

where i went onetime....Don Johnson  17-may-11

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Caroline Cécile Delacroix May 16, 2011 at 10:19 PM WOW! You got inspired to write about the sea, sailing it. You made it all very vivid, but the end is sooo sad. Thanks for the comments on Dancing Sea. T'was the month of July, should've been calm sea, under bright sunshine and blue sky. Oh, but it rained and rained, as if the sky was falling away, bounced about on wall like waves. Tied ourselves with ropes to not to sea be blown away, the only thing to do, was pray. Then sunbeams poured out through the wind parted clouds. :) love, Caroline.