A Sailor´s Dream Poem by JeanLouis Mondon

One evening, sheltered from the wind and the rain
At ease in a little cove, enjoying his Southern Comfort
The sail, a happy and soft tune exchanging
Between the mast and the rigging
My sailboat anchored in melancholy
Was dreaming of a start for a change.

A little whisper, just a small breath,
Who knows? Perhaps a ballet
Of blue or sperm whales
To rock the boat and take her for a dance
Just a sensation to fill the silent,
empty space between two waves.

Thirsty for fullness, surrounded with solitude
In this well designed habitat, all weather-proofed
The hold all sealed up, air conditioned
The rudder plunged in a space
Reduced to an indefinite wait.

Nothing, flat pond water, at the horizon,
Nothing, but a synchronized flight of pelicans
Flipping their wings with the rhythm
I was beating with the tip of my foot.
Maybe, that's it, the echo of the deep,
Response in harmony to a shiver of the heart
That emerges in the night on some wooden deck
And rises in crescendo up to our neck.

Not even daring, the veiled sound of a Ukulele
Draws from her sleep a sweet vahiné.
"Wake up! It's time to rise and shine".

Strummed morning chords fade slowly,
One needs to play more than a song
To discover the pearl hidden
Behind the veil of a moiré sarong.

Meanwhile, she, unaware of her own power
Lets a melody escape, miraculous breath
A westerly trade wind blessed by God.

Filled with wonder at the sight
When he was hoping for a whale
To rescue him from his plight,
The sailor, staggering, stumbling
Holds the dancing mast with all his might
As in a ballet choreographed on an off-beat.

Suddenly, surprise
A gentle stern wind blows on his sail
The hull whimpers and all the joints
Start humming a sweet symphony.
The floating hammock swings
And heads for a sweet harmony.

The sailor, far from analyzing
This fortuitous scented breeze
Asks almost in a whisper:

- Aren't you gutsy with your gust!
- Why, no! All my wrong if any
Is to have blown in your sail?

Now it's your call to follow your star.
After all, you woke me up
With your foot tapping.
Isn't it what you wanted?

- Come on, sailor man, don't blow your cover
And especially, don't blow your cool!
To your words, add your steps,
And stop giggling.

For after having heard you
I was gutsy, indeed
So, now play me
A happy tune on your Ukulele.

Jean-Louis.
January 2011