There she sits. At the end of the dock. From the house I can see her. With but a ripple on the water as the tide abates, her stoutly physique beckons me to sail. In the early morning and late afternoon, I admire her potential and her past. Aye, but for the emotional scar that has yet to heal I do what I can to keep her clean. Bleaching the mildew, cleansing the bowl, pumping fresh water, and even cooking on her stove. She may be settled at the dock waiting for a buyer, but she is still mine, a very proud find.
No man, no woman, can take what she has given me away. Even when she leaves my side, my heart will crave the brave soul who once sailed away. Just give me the strength to keep her looking fresh. To tend to her needs as best I can. N’er was a love greater than the joy SPRAY has given to me. So, I will keep her clean, as clean I can while continuing to risk going to sea alone. For a beggar I am not, nor ever will be. If you want to sail or just help me out then hither come yonder. Or congeal your fear, dig your heels in, push me away whatever you need. It really doesn’t matter. Our lives will go on,,,,with a clean boat at the dock.