The Sailor and the
Boat
On a cold and wet February morn, In she came, battered, sails all torn.
Her shine was gone, her rudder bashed, It seemed as though her sole was
smashed.
But through the wreck the sailor spied, A former glory, once with shoulders
wide.
He took a chance, and bought that boat, People laughed, he’s a fool they’d
gloat.
He didnt care, he paid no heed, But he wasnt stupid and knew what hed need.
Alot of patience, time and toil, He wouldnt quit, he would stay loyal.
And through the summers long bright days, He kept on smiling while he fought
the haze.
For beneath each coat of paint and dirt, He always seemed to hit more hurt.
Another hole, another dent, He began to wonder if hed badly spent.
But as folks forgot and the days drew in, A picture emerged of the good
within.
The mast was fixed, and a sail sent high, The crowd drew quiet and stopped
there cry.
The bright paint coat and a brand new wheel, Began to make the sailor feel,
Like his choice was good and his hard work paid, He’d be rewarded for the
choice he made.
With a brand new boat all shiney and bright, Theyd sail away through the day
and night.
Adventures ahead and memories found. This little boat wouldn’t run aground.
And through the work, the sweat and tears, Our little boat never spoke her
fears.
For she knew the sailor was the right man, Honest, brave and with a mighty
plan,
Who saw the world full of fight and love And would always be watching, close,
just above.
