Noil-kcalb-eht

Sat supping
Afternoon pubbing
Gazing across the cockle fields past the sleeping boats
in search of captain cat

Is it he who props the bar
Reliving his seafaring days
and loves blind adventures with his Rosie His lilted posture
matching the colour of his saying
Words ebbing and flowing
Toing and froing
as once did he on his mackerel boat

Alas I fear it is not he
For our man is as this salty dogs teeth Long gone into the waxy black pitch of the sea

Sat supping
Afternoon pubbing
Gazing across the cockle fields past the sleeping boats
in search of captain cat

Is it he who props the bar
Reliving his seafaring days
and loves blind adventures with his Rosie His lilted posture
matching the colour of his saying
Words ebbing and flowing
Toing and froing
as once did he on his mackerel boat

Alas I fear it is not he
For our man is as this salty dogs teeth Long gone into the waxy black pitch of the sea

(By Raymond C Bramford)