Ode to a Sailor

Ode to a Sailor

Ode To A Sailor by Gene B. Trotta

I have a sailor boy with a heart so true,
Who looks like a million in his navy blue,
With his shoes spit-shined and his little white cap
He is sailing the seas all over the map.

He works from dawn until late at night,
Dispatching his duties with all his might.
It's "Yes Sir," "No Sir" and restrictions galore;
And if he doesn't obey them, there are more.

When he gets liberty and goes into port,
He and his buddies find the hours too short.
They head for the town, to take in the sights;
Alas, occasionally, they get into fights.

When he is alone, and it's time for "lights out,"
He aches with homesickness, of this there's no doubt.
He tries to remember all his parents have told him,
And worries, fearing that he might fail them.

He thinks of his mother, and the laughter they shared.
Of the talks that she gave him, so he'd be prepared;
He thinks of his family and friends left at home
When he joined the service, to go it--alone.

He is proud of his flag, ship, and uniform;
And is as neat as a pin, when it is worn.
He is proud of the stripes he wears on his sleeve,
And we are proud of him, this you can believe!

He has given up a lot, for you and me,
And for the Red, White, and Blue, of his Country!
When his hitch is up, and no more will roam,
We will welcome him back, to his beloved home.

Courtesy of: Larry Majors 10/10/96

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