with hands strong as stokers shovels
and hearts as big as houses,
they still remember him.
an innocent honesty
his unswerving sense of duty.
The Fisherman’s widow,
the orphaned child,
their men folk lost at sea,
who first laid eyes on his kind face
and heard dreaded words by his hushed voice,
though never saw their beloved again.
They still remember him.
on wretched wreathes,
rise and fall against the hull.
From bone to salt,
thats how the fishers go.
The Superintendent of The Fishermen’s Mission,
who stood rock solid on a wind blown deck
and sent many fine men to Davy Jones,
today, he is bent by a gentler breeze,
that ceaseless sweep of time.
His memories now scattering.
he falls out of love with his past,
but that past will always be loved,
by those he loved
and showed love to.
stood tall on the deck of life.
A Superintendent of The Fishermen’s Mission.