Pirates Chest

Days upon the water
as the sun beats on my back
Sky has seen the colors change
from red to blue to black.
It would take a thousand years
to take salt from my skin
humidity and vanity
are slowly sinking in.
These boards on which I rest myself
are worn with each day gone
driven by a restless force
reluctant to go on.
Curl they do beneath the stress
perhaps they too must stretch
things to do prevent the crew
from naps they thought to catch.
In each I see a story
scars and wrinkles tell their tales
life like moving water
some have dips and some have swells.
Turn back to this lady though
she captivates my mind
becomes my music mistress of
a song I left behind.
Could it be real life I miss
or worry that I lack
smiling towards the water
as the sun beats on my back.

Chapter

Who is penning tales like this
who now writes the ending
is our sunset penciled in
or on us is it pending
Are we just the paper
or the thought as God is writing
is the play we see today
the truth come out of hiding
Give to me a thousand smiles
each one I'll stop to measure
be it paper, pen or thought
still each I swear to treasure
Sun upon my browning skin
salt as waves come crashing
pictures slow in life to go
all through my mind and flashing
Let me hold the canvas
blues and grays come inter mitten
If I wrote the story
are you sure of what you're getting
All I need is just one thought
just one that's strong, unbending
written down where skin does brown
And waves are neverending