The call

The broker we used to buy our boat, HSH Yachts in Kemah, puts out a monthly newsletter. This month there are pictures of Susan and I taken during our two sea trials, with comments about one with good weather on a not so good boat and one in bad weather on a good boat. In that same newsletter is the below poem. It seems to cover well what has called us.


A small boy heard the ocean roar,
"There are secrets on my distant shore
But beware my child the ship's bells wail,
Wait not too long to start the sail".
So quickly come and go the years
And a young adult stands abench--with fears.
"Come on, come on", the ocean cussed,
"Time passes on, oh sail you must".
Now its business in middle aged prime
And maybe tomorrow there'll be time.
Now is too soon--it's raining today.
Gone, all gone--years are eaten away.
An old man looks out, still feeling the lure
Yet he'll suffer the pain than go for the cure.
The hair is white, the steps with care,
So all too soon the secrets are buried
Along with him and regrets he carried
And it's not for loss of secrets he cried
But rather because he'd never tried.

Author Unknown