Skipper

The glittering surface of the water,
shining in the moonlight clear,
Broken by the ship's bow,
Ripples scattering the silver,
spilled by the moon, The wind
kissing the water, While whistling
its tune carried from faraway lands,
The lone skipper on the deck,
His eyes fixed on the farawy horizon,
His ears sharp and alert, His mind
on the mission he had set forth for,
His mate alseep amidships, His deckhand
working the aft rigged sail
on the mizzenmast, His quartermaster
counting barrels of rum, His love
waiting for him ashore,
Was she awake? thinking of him?
Yes, somehow he knew she was,
As he was, He smiled and again
fixed his eyes on the journey ahead.