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Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.

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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.

Continue Reading...

Dociwallips, is a very nice place,
We would visit every year, on the first of May.
Staying at the campgrounds or in Brinnon.
Party at night, the next day Oysters and Clams.
Gather the Oysters, shuck and leave the shells, please.
Go down in the morning, to get a limit
Of Oysters and then look for Gooey Duck.
If you got one, proud you would be.
Once time I saw the right "sign"
And then with a planned design,
I started to dig, as casual as I could,
For I didn't want the "Duck" think he should,
Dig deeper, or pull in its neck.
As I dug closer, down on my knees,
I grabbed the shell, if you please.
Holding and wiggling, my grip kind of thin,
When I realized that the tide was coming in.
I grasped tighter and then came a fear,
The water was now up to my ear.
I wriggled some more, my wife said, "Let go".
And I told her that, I won't. NO!
Finally the big clam broke free.
I could now say, look at me.

I stand by the water
Watching.
I hear the lapping waves
Splashing.
The smell of the Sea,
Enticing.
What you do to me,
Exciting.
I gaze into your eyes,
Bewildered.
The reflection, I see,
Adoration.
My arms encircle you,
Comfort.
It's almost time to go,
Anxious.
I've lost you my love,
Sadness.
I'll pray for your soul,
Weeping.

I remember you, from many years before.
You were so beautiful and I did adore,
That look that you had,
The sounds that you made,
As we rode all the byways and more.
The sleek running chassis, I saw before,
With a smooth shifting, four on the floor.
Your engine, a V-8, a 283,
That always had enough power for me.
Dual pipes, with "Smitty's", making the sound,
That would send out echo's all over town.
Driving down the street, every night, alas
The pipes echo's would rattle the glass
Of the storefronts, there were quite a few,
As we circled again, down the Avenue.

I must write of what I feel,
Else this life may get more surreal.
I have noted that late at night,
A wandering about, without delight,
Searching for answers of a question or so,
When I realize there is more to know.
Thought processes, that once were keen,
Are missing the connection, in between.
She knows that something is wrong,
But can't reason of where it will belong.
It frightens me, in a caring way.
I pray that the morrow, is a better day,
For her.

Blow hard, the Wind. Blow hard tonight.
Clean up the air, use all your might,
For the pollutants and emissions must
Be reduced for all, not for just
Those who we see every day,
But the World citizens, who must stay
In squalid hovels, at the border of the USA.

When the evening light, turns to black,
It's the time for a memory lapse.
Not recalling names of long lost friends,
Or remembering places we went to, often.
The sense of loss of her mind, I feel
Afraid for her, in this life surreal.
"Weep not for me", she's said before,
As we trudge towards that fateful door.
The cruelty of this disease, to me
Astounds my view of the lost memory.

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