{I have lit beacons for sailors}

I have lit beacons for sailors
and drank rum with lost Captains
watched albatross wander
across lonely dark seas.
I have followed the North star,
vied with the trade winds
been becalmed in still waters
and swallowed by storms.

Nothing prepared me for the
dangers I now see

getting old is the pits
Davy Jones laughs as he
spits on my grave.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.