A Sailor’s Story


A sailor’s story lingers long while others disappear; its locale point is Cuban soil when freedom was still here. My tall young frame was all decked out with new tight tailored whites, with thirteen shiny buttons new, that much improved the sight. With nineteen years, a handsome face, and soft gold flaxen hair, this sailor boy was sure this day that he could spin a lair. With shipmates at my side as well, we headed for a bar, an outside Tiki bar we found, that was not very far. We took a table near a band then playing Cuban songs, and ordered lots of beer and food, that quickly came along. Some senoritas sitting close to us sent smiles that lit the sky; it didn’t take us long to know, they were not very shy. My dancing skills kicked in real soon with one who sat nearby, and soon we ruled the whole dance floor, like angels from the sky. We danced and danced, and never stopped, it was a sight to see; a lovely senorita doll and sailor all aglee. The hours passed and music ceased, but love had hit my heart; so soon the scene became a room, two cocktails for a start. There was a kiss, but after that, all life in me went blank, and on the wooden floor within that room, my body slowly sank. When life came back and I awoke, my valuables were missing, and so the same was true, the girl that I was kissing. I ran with fear through dark lit streets and made it to the dock, in time to board my ship alive, but in a state of shock. As years rolled on the story stayed as clear as yesterday, and now it’s down on paper stock and long will be its stay.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Warren P Padla

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
majored in journalism at NYU in the 50s; received my masters in business from there and worked for Equitable Life in NY for many years. When retired entered antique business and real estate; retired to Massachusetts and Florida; currently do a lot of volunteer work. Friends forced me into poetry due to much writing I had sent to them over the years. So I joined High On Poems. the end, warren
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Story Of My Life

Story Of My Life prose poem

A dinner A movie show A trip to the zoo None of these Are as fine as A day spent thinking about you I had a heart and that is true But now it’s gone from me to u When

Story

Story short poem

Our final moment draws near As we leave all behind Ending our story For a new beginning Each day spent Was a day wasted Until it comes down To the final sayings The last moment Before we end our journey

Ancient Love Story

Ancient Love Story prose poem

At a liquid time flowing between two visions, Before we imprisoned our breaths inside cages of a calendar, Before bird feathers fell down into inkwells, Before we covered our dead with an elegy and a confusion written on papyrus leaves

The End In Every Story

The End In Every Story short poem

You and I were meant to be For days have come and years to see This isle so far I don’t know why For shaking my feet and hand just sigh I know it’s not our final walk Cause being

Your Story Should Be Told

Your Story Should Be Told long poem

Each one of us has a story And one that should be shared Not one that’s strict and rigid Nor overly prepared But one that comes straight from the heart The journey you’ve been taking Of things you’ve done, the