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When you sail full-bosomed alee,
smiling like the horizon,
I shall travel every part of your craft,
from starboard to port,
from stern to beauteous bow,
admiring your righteous keel,
your sun-licked brightwork,
your flying colors. When you are moored safely,
tucked in the arms of an unruffled bay,
I shall lie spread on your sole
and we shall sleep, you holding me
in the depths of your hull, listening
to the sea lapping softly at your body.
And when you stand frigid, naked
of your white billowing clothes,
whipped by the wind and the waves
and swamped by the swelling sea,
I shall remain on your bridge
riding out every gale,
bailing fathoms of water by the bucket
until the clouds break to blue.
And when we sail again, full-bosomed alee,
smiling like the horizon ablaze,
we shall navigate by the sun and the sky
and in our wake will dive glossy dolphins.
And even if we should yaw, my love,
the stars will always sparkle every night aloft
in the deep indigo dusk. |
