Strolling the Bridge
Night in the Persian Gulf can be rather eerie
When one steams along the coasts, there are bizarre sights
Giant spires spouting lofty infernos so fiery
It's as if I sail the shores of hell on these nights
The seas part before me in phosphorescent curl
Menacing gun boats prowl the watery darkness
In the masts, shifting albatross silently whirl
Strolling the bridge, my coffee cup provides me warmth
My mind occupied by sweet my girl back at home
Counting the days until I return to her smile
My thoughts return to a light in the ocean foam
I raise my glasses and judge its distance a mile
I report the unknown contact down to combat
Thoughts returning to her, in the grass we both sat
© Copyrights G. Jones 2008
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