Down By The Old River

I was a young man my trade was a deck hand
my first love the clipper the old Rosalea
we sailed from the old town down by the river
to Bombay and Shanghai we traded for tea

I met a young girl down by the river
she said we could marry and live on a farm
I told her I'm sorry my heart's with another
we kissed as we watched the sun o'er the yard arm

I know when my time comes and I meet my maker
I'll have no regrets I'll be happy he'll see
for I'll have my ashes cast out on the river
that I once supported and now supports me.

by Charles M Moore

Comments (5)

This reads like a song Charlie and a very good one at that. Great theme, rhythm and words. jim
Charming and wonderful write. Rollicking, and yet sentimental, a terrific sailor-song. Sail on, Charlie! I loved this.
Another wonderful poem, Charlie - I like the way it flows - like the river you write about. Lovely................... Linda
Pours over us in a way that only your work can.Brilliant.Love Duncan
Lovely tale Charles. The man with his love the river Patricia