South Pacific, aboard ship, underway, at Twilight.
Our ship knifes through the choppy Sea.
An iridescent glow appears now along the Hull
As it slices through the water.
Flying Fish, appear alongside the ship.
On a good trip, Bottle Nose Dolphins, appear,
Racing with our Destroyer Escort.
It's hot and muggy. Staying topside,
Is cooler than being below, in our quarters.
I have Evening Watch, 2100 hours to Mid.
We are dressed in dungarees, rolled to our knees,
With a faded, Chambray shirts.
Up the ladder to C.I.C, (combat information center),
To sit in front of a RADAR scope
On the look out for other ships.
If we see a contact, we take a reading and range,
And another member, will plot the time and bearing,
On white paper that is atop of a DRT (dead reckoning tracer).
The DRT moves on the course direction of our ship.
We report course, bearing and time every 5 or 10 minutes,
Depending on the distance from our ship.
We have been trained that if the bearing of the contact,
Remains constant, then we are on a collision course,
At some future time. We alert the bridge,
Who will make a minor course correct to avoid a collision.
The next watch has now arrived, we enter information
In our Log.
Leaving. It's down the ladder to the Boat Deck; Down another ladder
To the main deck, then down another ladder to our quarters
Which is located next to the laundry. Thankfully they're not working.
Up on my hammock I go to try to sleep as Revellie is early
And roll call is at 0800 hours.

Late last Summer; some barren ground,
Tempted me to spread or lay down,
A mixture of old Perennial seed.
The seed did grow, without a weed
And flowers with a very strong stalk,
By the edge of our City sidewalk.
Daisies, Bachelor Buttons and mystery flowers
Grew and grew through day light hours.
Blues, Whites, Golds one could see
And a sense of good, was mine to be.
This year, the flowers, some new to me,
With the arrival of a Orange Blackseed Poppy.
I can hardly wait to see the surprise,
When that corner of flowers do arrive.

It's now 4 AM in the morning.
I am starting to fade.
I have been up for hours,
Avoiding sleep, my tirade.
I need to quit writing, and creep
Into my bed and go back to sleep.

Would you still know me
If you saw me again?
For my hair is now white
And whiskers cover my chin.