The Sailors Prayer

Tomorrow is it. I find myself scrambling to come up with any possible idea to make this separation more comfortable. I came across this poem and thought to include it in his Bible. With a message of encouragement from me, it will not fit. I’ll save it for later. For his first real letter. But until then, I place it here. Safe in these pages.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Grant no other Sailor take
my shoes and socks before I wake. 

Lord guard me on my slumber
and keep my hammock on its number.
May no clues or lashings break
and let me down before I wake.

Keep me safely in thy sight
and grant no fire drill tonight.
And in the morning let me wake,
breathing scents of sirloin steak.

God protect me in my dreams
and make this better than it seems.
Grant the time may swiftly fly
when myself shall rest on high.

In a snowy feather bed,
where I long to rest my head,
far away from all the scenes
and the smell of half-done beans.

Take me back into the land
where they don’t scrub down with sand,
where no demon typhoon blows,
where the women wash the cloths.

God thou knowest all my woes,
feed me in my dying throes.
Take me back I promise then,
NEVER to leave home again. 

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