The First Mate
At the bow he sits proudly,
With sunlight on his hair,
A little captain’s helper
With wind and water fair.
He doesn’t need a compass,
He doesn’t need a chart,
He simply knows the way to go...
He navigates by heart.
The little boat goes skipping
Across the sparkling blue,
And every wave that greets them
Will be an adventure new.
His captain holds the tiller,
And he keeps watch ahead,
With salty breeze around him
And sunshine overhead.
No sailor could be happier,
No First Mate more sincere,
For anywhere his best friend goes
Is where he wants to steer.
So onward through the ripples,
Companions, side by side...
A man, his faithful dog,
And one delightful ride.
And should you ask that furry mate
What makes a perfect day?
He’d say, “A boat…my best friend…
And waves along the way.”
Thank’s for looking and
have a great Sunday.
Oh my gosh, this is adorable! And you found the cutest photo that goes perfectly with it. Did YOU write this poem?? If so, you are a genius poet!!
ReplyDeleteGood poem about the first mate, Denise.
ReplyDeleteThe best friend is the captain of this boat—haha, that is so sweet, and the poem about it is too. Wishing you a wonderful Sunday! Hugs, Elke.
ReplyDelete