an old sailor - or - john robert taylor

in my street lived old man taylor,
they say he spent his life on the boats as a sailor,
bent and gnarled, like an old tree root,
he'd sit on his porch and on his ol' pipe he'd toot,
the smoke it would belch, took my thoughts back,
to a great steam train and its billowing stack,

at first we were frightened of this serious old man,
face of few teeth and skin like leather, deepest of tan,
he was wrinkled and hair, wisps of white thatch,
almost covering his face, a white beard to match,
his hands and his fingers were grained full of oil,
no doubt from his years of deep sweat and toil,

then one day, walking from my hard day school,
i wandered too close, even breaking mums rule,
"i dont want you near him, he's a strange old codger",
but i saw mary jane, didnt like her, had to dodge her,
without any kind of warning, he was bearing down on me,
with the sweetest of grin, i didnt expect to see,

for an hour, i sat on his porch by his side,
listening to tales of his life on the tide,
the places he'd seen, the people he'd met,
one thing i knew, more tales he had yet,
"mum, she'll be worried i said with a blow,
if you dont mind ill come back tomorow",

for months after school, i'd visit my friend,
and listen to his tales, as if lectures to tend,
for years he had sat alone on his chair,
must have been hard, knowing theres no one to care,
we both looked forward to our afternoon chat,
even had my own chair right there on the mat,

arriving one day, i saw lads akin,
throwing stones at his window, setting fire to his bin,
he'd retreated inside, i could see his face, pale,
he couldnt fend or fight he was too old and frail,
dropping my bags, livid, my fury riled up,
i set to my task of breaking them up,

an hour or so later i sat battered and bruised,
he cleaned up my wounds, "why?" he said bemused,
i scoffed "dont worry i am sure ill mend,
besides why wouldnt i, you are my friend",
he said quite abruptly, "time to go", with a sigh,
but as i walked away i saw a tear in his eye,

didnt see him for the next 2 days,
i went but, a shuttered and locked house met my gaze,
i wondered what i had done wrong,
alone in my head i pondered this thought long,
standing up for my friend was it such a crime,
to ignore my visits time after time,

the following week mum called me into the room,
wondering what id done wrong, a sense of impending doom,
she was sat in the room with a man i knew not,
twisting her hands as if tieing a knot,
i said "whats wrong" feeling more than worried,
the man started to explain as if slightly hurried,

he was a solicitor, representing an old sailor,
point of fact, the estate of the late john robert taylor
it seemed, the last day i saw him he had gone to his bed,
and died in his his sleep, my thoughts in my head,
were rushing and spinning i couldnt take it in,
all i could see was his sweetest of grin,

"he had no family left alive around here",
my heart sank for him, as i sniffed back a tear,
"everything he owned, he has bequeathed it to you,
his house, pipe, chair even medals from 1942,
there was a letter" said the man "left by his bed,
it is addressed to you", a letter for me? i said,

taking the letter in hand, thinking back to its source,
the man said as leaving" will be in touch in due course",
mum turned and hugged me seeing my grief,
i wasnt there for him, i said in disbelief,
i think you were she said as i turned for my room,
i sat and opened my letter its words seemed to loom,

dearest peter,

my very best friend,
I know now its time, everything must end,
ive felt very ill now for a quite few days,
the day the doctors told me, just seemed like a haze,
but that was the day you walked on to my land,
and allowed an old man to share his memories grand,
i felt alot better knowing they wouldnt die with me,
passing them to you, was like letting them free,
but the day you fought for me, an took on that strife,
watching you standing for me was the best in my life,
and when i asked you why, it wasnt for valour or glory,
you said your my friend, what an end to a lifelong story,
i wish you a good and happy life with many a thrill,
god willing guide and protect from above i will,
know that in the last chapter of the life of this man,
you brought him true happiness, as if his life there began,

am feeling quite tired now so ill take to my bed,
i hope you remember everything i have said,

youll grow to be a good man maybe even a sailor,

your very good friend,

john robert taylor,

c.d.lee