I look across the chart that
is my life
And see, like ports and harbours,
Little creeks and streams,
All the happy times and oft' the ones of strife
That filled me with a joy of living and of dreams.
Yet many, lying soft like pools of misty grey,
But half remembered, never whole and clear to see,
Quietly and unnoticed, slide away
And softly lock their doors and hide away the key.
No more shall they be seen, nor bide
With me, that others share what
I still know they are.
Like unknown shadow shapes of eventide
They fly, they fade in misty dreams afar.
And as I drift and let life slide me by,
So one by one each hatch is shut and locked and
'Til only one direction, one last door I spy
And there a shining figure, sword in hand, stands
Lt Cdr Nigel Arthur 'Bernie'
Bruen MBE DSC RN (Ret}