The Old Sailor At The Inn

'Twas on that fateful evening,
As the sun was bidding farewell.
Into the sea he went sinking,
And twilight cast its magic spell.

As dark clouds began gathering,
And rain swept down like swift arrows
To the dingy inn, went I, staggering,
Repose, I sought 'midst the shadows.

Long I sat musing in the grim darkness,
While the ale kept a steady flow.
When there was a burst of brightness -
Moonlight had sauntered in through the window

As though against me, was held a cold knife
For a minute? An hour? my body froze
The rags before me sprang to life,
And grey eyes peeped from beneath bushy brows

A gnarled hand, forward had slithered,
I trembled, turning ghostly pale.
To his lips he pressed my tankard,
In quick gulps he finished the ale.

Those hard grey eyes, beheld a solemn gaze;
His voice thundered like a cannon -
"Nary a ship", he spake " had graced the quays
As the glorious and fearless Falcon"

"Of perilous trips, it never was shy
Guided, by a fearless captain
Like the sailing moon on a starless sky.
Shone the twinkling jewel - Falcon"

"Ah! What glorious dreams, the seas to roam,
'midst waters unchartered and villainous -
To search and explore far away from home,
The fools that said it was too treacherous"

"Cowards!" spat the old sailor with disdain.
"Rather the captain, amidst storms galore,
and tempestuous seas, be it in vain,
Than a wretched slave, headed straight for shore."

For the second time, that grey evening,
A chill had risen in the inn.
Moonlight flashed; Once again blinding,
Nowhere, could He be found within.

My eyes scanned the room hurriedly.
Whither did he go? Was he even real?
Or was it the gnawing unrest in me,
that manifest, in a manner surreal?

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