as a bard once more,
i make my way carefully down
the sandy dunes to
where the ocean laps hungrily
at the shore
sunlight catches the edge of
a finely crafted sword,
and i pick it up with the
memory of rum and stormy
seas on the tip of my tongue
and there is a ship waiting
for me, out past the breakers,
if i am willing to swim
and i find that i am,
breaking into a run
towards that beckoning water,
sword left in the sand to
mark where i once stood
and a ship so fine as this,
gifted to a humble bard,
and a pirate worth his salt,
where i will sail across every
sea and bring you home
rubies and soft fabrics
and so many stories
when the cowboy finds he
has grown tired of chasing
that horizon, i will
return to you
shedding the pirates long-coat,
bidding the bard and his bleeding
heart farewell, the cowboy rows
back to shore and welcomes
the feeling of that sandy shore
under his boots once more