The conceptual love
of a mother's
"Creed"
in thought word and deed.

Once was the memory as fresh as frozen dew

I stepped back and then over
the rotten log of truth

Now the days are slated
in the absence of the years

Leave me debating on the worthy of shedding salty tears

The oaken deck and floorboards
of my weathered ship

From the sun and salt
have turned to white at the ending of my trip

I left one foot ashore and the other out at sea

Have thus been devided serving two masters knowing that it can never be

I scowled at by the landward winds

Then turned and prayed to us at sea they'd send

So the back and forth of my life
I sadly never let it end

Now the mast has broken
the repairs will never last

Thus I come limping into port
dropping anchor , and  holding fast

The dingy is the last ride
on the oars that water drips

I'll not be putting out to sea
It's now the time that R.I.P. s

But be not sad the greatest voyage remains

One a joy to make
that eliminates
the pain