Nineteen and fifty; Shipped out.
From 'Frisco' on tidal mounts
'Gate bridge, sinking from view,
Changed all sea and sky anew. So this the way of the sea.
Down over water and globe.
Seabirds, how can you be?
Trailing for days, no abode. Night-watch, I found your abode;
Roosting on rail for your rest.
"Freeloader! Sea Tramp!" my mode.
A tossing ship is no nest. By day, winged celebrant sure.
Curved pinions can be a lure,
To fly along for some miles,
But I've got duty awhile. Off duty, I'll watch your flight,
Flirting, aware of our course,
Guiding eye, pinion your force,
Will tire you by nautical night. Wonders, for this youth at sea.
Rest, seabirds, with tired wings fold,
Though Pliede's paths are old,
We'll match compass, chart and sea. Southern climes and "Southern Cross,"
Brings flying-fish and porpoise toss
Flirt again 'neath bow and stern
A porpoise welcome we earn. Ah well, return? No! Again?
Seabirds: let's ship to the main.
Now that I've learned all your names:
Gull, Tern and Albatross plain. "They that down to the sea that go..."
Penned a Psalmist, long ago,
"Wonders" for this youth at sea.
"Of the deep" and seabirds pleas.