The older one gets the higher
as ailments aplenty appear,
rats in our bilge, a few bats in our rigging,
new horizons oft negated by fear.
Many would like to just get on
put to sea, seek blue water, sail away,
but then the dilemma is the leaving of loved ones
and our need to be near night and day.
So we dream about sailing or build
and we point them due north with great glee,
we’ve slipped anchor in spirit, imagination
as we voyage on a pondy-like sea.
a recent picture of Mark Steele,
with age showing,
taken by Mark and Norma's youngest daughter
Articles and Columns by Mark Steele: