Master of the Deck

Master of the Deck

Now warm within the confines of my home,
I shiver at the long remembered chill
Of wind, which stirred my backyard sea of brome;
Which touched my beating heart, and always will.

I stood my watch upon my deck, adrift
Amid the shifting swirls of midnight mists.
Dim moonlight touched my face, a silver gift,
Awakening a dream that yet persists.

Upright and tall, the master at the rail,
And captain of my stationary ship,
I navigated, certain we would sail,
Until we silently docked in our slip,

The flexing of the deck beneath my feet,
The snapping of the silver sheets aloft,
The thrumming of the lines made my heart beat,
As counterpoint to sighing breezes soft.

A street lamp, now a gleaming barbican;
Whose tower watch, alerted by my sails,
Sounded a horn -- from misty minivan,
Unraveling the threads of dreamy tales...

I summoned Dante back up on the deck,
And slowly I unhooked his cable tie.
I turned back once, to ponder and reflect
On reverie, and sadly said goodbye.

Now warm within the confines of my home,
I shiver at the long remembered thrill,
Of voyages, where dreams let the heart roam,
Where old souls sail away, and always will.

Mick McKellar
October 2014

On one recent evening, as I trod the boards of our deck, surrounded by thick fog and faint moonlight while Dante completed his late night duties, I was carried away upon a sea of imagination. Captain of my fate and master of the deck, I navigated toward a distant light on a fortified seawall...until a minivan honked on the next street, breaking the spell…

Mick