The Isle He Loves the Most


The 2006 central Pacific cyclone
Image via Wikipedia

When evening
falls and the sea calls,

Where else
to be than the sea,

Rising on
the swells where dreams dwell,

There’s no
place to be but the sea,

Red skies at
night are his delight,

Storms have
passed him by,

A gentle
breeze upon his face,

As the deck
confines his space,

His thoughts
are on a world beyond,

Of places
where his heart is fond,

Tropical isles
wait there with room to spare,

Offering a
home away from home,

Natives who
appear are friendly and bare,

Diminishing
his need to roam,

The cadence
of drums fills the air,

Evoking
images of the dancers there,

As they
swayed with rhythm and grace,

Such a
beautiful way for his reveries to end,

As the
captain hurries back to his post,

There’s no
better place but the sea for him,

And the isle he loves the most.

2 thoughts on “The Isle He Loves the Most

Add yours

    1. If an old tar can make it to the leeward side of the island he might be safe.

      May the sun be on your face and the wind at your back as the Lord blesses you throughout the day. Carpe diem!

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