The Mariner
I see a face in front of me, a man so craggy and unshaved
And wonder to myself, how many memories he has saved?
A face that if we all think, we must know the type
A face so worn and lived in, sucking on a pipe
He was sitting on a quayside, looking out to sea
In his eyes I could see, a warmth and humility
An old oilskin hat covered his head and ears
His hands strong, rough and chaliced, sea damaged over the years
He told me a story, of how as a young boy
As a galley boy, a ships master did employ
He left school at an early age, sacrificed his education and learning
Making a new life, on the sea that he was yearning
Swapping his schoolbooks, for a compass and nautical charts
Traveling to exotic parts, leaving a string of broken hearts
The sea was his classroom, the ships ways he soon learned
He swore that he would be a master mariner, when he returned
His eyes were gleaming, as his story he related
Recalling his years as a young man, his words sometimes exited
He spoke of a girl, that had once captured his heart
And how his years at sea had kept them apart
A girl from Durham, the true love of his life
A girl who loved the arts, who he dreamt of as his wife
A ravishing beauty, with eyes of blue and long blonde hair
Eyes as blue as the sea, and when he slept, he dreamed of her
He wiped away a tear, as his story I embraced
Of how when he closed his eyes, all he could see was her face
A face that he kept in his heart, for all those years
A face that kept him going, through those many lonely years
He spoke of the time
When returned to the Port of Tyne
After years of travelling the seven seas
And the sight that he thought he would never see
For standing there
Was this beauty, with the long blonde hair
Crying, as her child was going to sea
A mirror image of the sailor, that before me I see!
Copyright Ralph Jones