bearded, wild
quick tempered be
my natural place
is on the sea

my northern star
her memory
the anchor locker
and the quay

nets to fire
rope to splice
my heart in summer
full of ice

her smile the sun
her form the shore
wrought from toil
her lips are pure

I see her now
amongst the waves
those hazel eyes
the tide betrays

net mending
as the season grows
needle dancing
through the rows

my hands are coarse
sandpaper'd rough
mist kissed skies
are not enough

blonde curtains draped
her smile unfurled
her hair falls over
the globe of my world