Old Man by the Sea
Author: Chris Hanley


As I grow old, I sit and stare.
I watch the sea, and sultry air,
clouds that drift, so steadily by,
amassed by spread, across the sky.

Rays of sun, like halo's gleam,
across the sea, to dance and sheen,
Hues of colors, wind and tide,
silver strands, to be untied.

Visions mingle, forms define,
glimpsed and fade, before the eye.
Time so precious, blessings few,
ever change, every hue anew.

Natures promise, beauty to behold,
selects a few, a message to unfold.
Pity those, who cannot see,
pleasures of living, by the sea.

Ivory castles, built on high,
Social pursuits, that will not die.
Riches sought, and gambles taken,
shorten life, until awaken.

When time on Earth is nigh,
No fear of death have I.
Scatter me, upon the Sea,
To ebb and flow, eternally.

With Irish songs, to give me rhythm,
My soul unfolds, with optimism.
Wishing ever, I could see,
Happy people, living by the sea.