Live portrait

[Doc Vernon]

I cannot draw or paint, am tone deaf and cannot sing, Have no artistic taint nor the money it may bring, My canvas is the deep sea, but a brush I never clutch, For the ever-changing colours are impossible to touch,

But I have seen the lacy foam on the back of giant seas, Looked upon the flying fish scudding in the breeze, My eyes have noted albatross and spouting of blue whale, Have marvelled at the dolphins, and clippers under sail.

The icebergs in the Arctic far from desert sand, Shining in the midnight sun in Rory Bory land, Freezing times in southern climes under stars so bright, And o`h so rare - a giant ray loop the loop in flight.

I have heard a storm’s shrill wind a’whistling in the rigging, And a mighty hurricane with nature wildly singing, Worked through many sunsets and dawns of pastel hues, Watched the daggered lighting strike wherever it may choose.

I have viewed the skeletons of ships now long deceased, High and dry upon the banks of treacherous hidden reefs, Ogled at the sharks attack with nothing left but blood, And a foreign delta, overwhelmed by flood.

Inspired by scuba diving, in underwater caves, Swum along an ancient wreck below the ocean waves, Weathered blinding sandstorms blowing off the shore, Fought against the tidal range that surged the river bore.

I have dodged the waterspout to avoid its whirling ire, And gazed upon a metal mast beset by Elmo’s fire. Recognised a mirage and seen the rig set square, Upon the Flying Dutchman in a ghostly glare.

Does an artist sit too long while I sail from shore to shore, Is he held in throng while I move along and free to see much more? So young lad, a masterpiece may sit upon a shelf, Better far a live portrait - go see it for yourself. (With thanks Joe Earl)

[Keith at Tregenna]

Another excellent one from Capt. Joe,
thanks,

Keith.