Sailing

Breakfast at Sea

Breakfast at sea. Tasty and dangerous.

Coffee,
Bacon,
Bacon,
Coffee,
Coffee,
Bacon,
Toast,
Bacon,
Coffee.

Hmm. Rough seas today.
I feel queasy.

Dire Straits

Crossing the Straits of Gibraltar

The Straits of Gibraltar
Should be quite a sight.
Unless, of course,
You cross them at night.

The lights of Europe
Off your port side in the night,
Africa is to your starboard.
What most people call “right”.

I suppose seeing the lights
Of two continents is romantic,
But I think I would prefer more,
After crossing the Atlantic.

Wondering why Cruise Critic
Is not set all aflame
With furious passengers
Who love to complain.

The New New Colussus

Give me your elderly,

Your Europeans,

Your masses struggling to be gay,

I will bring them all together

At the Garden Cafe.

Straits

Atlantic Crossing.

Last day sailing all alone.

The Med tomorrow.

Sailor’s Tale

There once was a woman named Flo,
At sea, she was willing to go.
While back on dry land,
She charged half a grand,
And the sailors all called her Land Ho.

I thought I saw a dolphin,
Out swimming in the sea.
It could have been a mermaid,
They look the same to me.
(I need my glasses.)

I’m on the second watch,
I’m sitting on my balcony.
I’m on my third Mojito,
So it looks pretty clear to me.
(Rum is tasty.)

I was born to be a sailor,
To explore the Seven Seas.
I just need a decent cabin,
And another Mojito, please.
(Watching the ocean is thirsty work.)

This may not be the life,
Of the brave sailors of old times.
They made a living sailing,
Among their many crimes.

I’m too late to be a pirate,
As Jimmy Buffett said.
Yet, staring at the ocean
Will get inside your head.
(Can you get me another Mojito?)