Drunken Sailor
A Poem
There was a man
Who had three sons.
And boy those sons knew how
to have some fun!
There was a father
who had a dream.
The wettest month
there had ever been.
What was That?
You look so sad?
I don’t know son,
but it looks real bad.
There was a dreamer
who heard a Voice.
“Drown, or make a boat”
He made the choice
to keep afloat.
There was a chooser,
who began to build.
To hammer and saw,
with timber milled.
There was a builder
who built a ship.
It stood ready and tall,
to embark on a trip.
There was a sailor,
who watched the skies.
Gathered his herds,
and ignored the cries.
There was a friend,
who closed the door.
He ignored his friends,
and left the shore.
There was a man,
who lost his way.
he had no map,
his vision gray.
There was a wreck,
who came aground.
His ship was beached,
A new home found.
There was a farmer,
who planted some crops.
Sowed some barley,
and also hops.
There was a drinker,
His sobriety lost.
His friends were dead,
So he got real sloshed.
He’d heard the Voice,
Ignored his fears!
Now he was hollow,
shedding drunken tears.
I heard that story,
In times gone past.
Of Noah and his boat,
and he built it fast.
And on this example, I reflect:
Here was a great man,
Who still got wreck’d.
And I wonder, as I think
How I do big things,
and am prone to drink.
Is it a warning I see
that man, that man is me?
