Going Home 


A sailor never truly dies
Or so I’ve heard it said.
The ocean takes him to her breast
And gently he is led

To bide a while on seas becalmed
And rest his weary head
Cradled in her welcome arms
Whilst salty tears are shed

You always wish you’d found the words
To ask of sights he’d seen
Of oceans vast and mirrored seas
Of silver blue and green

Wide and far he cast his nets
To North and South and West
So far from home, a world away
He loved the ocean best

He’s in the seagulls’ mournful cries
Forget? You never could.
Remember as they swoop and play
The sea was in his blood

And when at last your time is done
I’ll shed no lonesome tear
I know he will be waiting there
On that celestial pier

He’ll take your hand and, casting off 
On deck you’ll both take flight
And sail the endless seas and stars 
Your guide their heavenly light



About Marie

An eccentric & quirky artist and writer who fills her time between fantasy roleplaying sessions with painting, writing and playing her guitar (rather badly). Usually to be found with paint-stained fingers surrounded by books and tubes of acrylic paint.
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