A small boat sitting at the harbor's edge,
bobbing up and down with the sea's waves;
Catches my eye on this November morning,
calling me to bring it to a nearby cave.

I sought out the owner of this handsome skiff,
blue and gold shining in the clear ocean's light;
Yet no one responded to my strong, eager voice,
so I ran to the rescue with sheer delight.

Once I finally reached the tiny flailing ship,
I pulled its long rope from the water's edge;
Then bound it and tied it with all my might,
to the flag of its colors which sat on the ledge.

Relieved but exhausted from my ordeal,
I sat up with surprise when my eyes grew dark;
The world became nothing but a swirling brew,
concocted from seaweed, shells and bark.

What I didn't recall was the time I spent,
as captain of this boat many years before;
My head was bursting with pain and confusion,
as I crawled on the sand from the windy shore.

It was just an illusion from my seafaring past,
while missing the voyages we used to take;
I only imagined what had happened that day,
my youthful vision still alive and awake.

(At night I dreamed of that nearby cave,
where my first boat was nearly lost in a wave) !