the sea captain and the bard

at first there was a sea captain

and he could have been lonely

but, surrounded by the great

expanse of the ocean

is one ever really alone?

and then, there was a bard

arguably more of an orator

(though a bard just the same)

for he carried no instrument,

no weapon but his words

and a pretty little dagger

that the captain gave him

tucked into his boot

it does not matter how long

the bard took to get to the captain

all that matters is he

is there now

so bright with all his love

the bard tucks daisies and

dandelions into the captain’s

long and windswept hair

and if the captain’s teeth are

a little crooked and the

bard has scars on wrist

and arm and chest

well, neither of them minds

because the bard will still

make the captain breakfast

and the captain will still

share his flask of rum

and when the captain asks,

voice rough with late nights

and years of salty ocean brine,

“is this a love story?”

the bard will only laugh,

voice free of heartbreak,

knowing the captain will

always belong more to the

ocean than he ever could

to him, and say,

“nay, my captain. it is naught

but a jaunty little tune”