The Old Grey Man Of The Sea

Sat at the edge of a rickety boat that is

Stranded in time and in tide,

Caught in the mists of the visions you see

In the cloud on the seaward side,

What do you dream of the stories of old,

And what was the memory;

The coastal cottagers spreading their nets...

Or the old, grey man of the sea?

 

Whenever the weather is humid and close and the

Cloud sits heavy on me,

I look at the picture of you and the boat

And the cloud and the sand and the sea,

I see in your face all the memories held,

The memories held from me,

Of the coastal cottagers spreading their nets

And the old grey man of the sea.

 

David Lewis Paget