Tall White Ships


When I was young I dreamed of sailing ships with tall white sails,

to the seven seas and mysteries with mighty rolling waves.

When the oceans all were conquered to my home I would return,

with sailors tales of storms and whales and lessons I had learned.

Then we’d step ashore at our home once more have a drink with all our friends,

till a distant voice left me no choice but to do it all again.

When you dream about tomorrow, do you dream of yesterday?

Do the kisses still lie sweetly on your lips?

If the hands of time were falling kind, would you do it all again?

Would you climb aboard and sail the tall white ships?

I met a man with worn out hands from working long hard years.

He was old and wise with sparkling eyes.

He was sipping on his beer.

He spoke about old times he’d had and faces that he’d seen.

Spoke of love’s he’d lost and winters frost

and all that could have been.

Through the bar room smoke he softly spoke, said he wouldn’t change a thing.

Given one more chance at life’s romance he’d do it all again.

When you dream about tomorrow, do you dream of yesterday?

Do the kisses still lie sweetly on your lips?

If the hands of time were falling kind, would you do it all again?

Would you climb aboard and sail the tall white ships?

Time has come and time has gone and I have no regrets.

Not the late night bars, the well earned scars,

not even smoking cigarettes.

When the night sets in I’ll surely grin and think of days gone by.

The boats, the friends,

the times back when we never questioned why.

So let’s raise our glass.

May your ships run fast.

May you sail on like the wind.

May your hearts stay true, your skies stay blue.

May your journeys never end.

When you dream about tomorrow, do you dream of yesterday?

Do the kisses still lie sweetly on your lips?

If the hands of time were falling kind, would you do it all again?

Would you climb aboard and sail the tall white ships?

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© 2015 by B.M. Simpson