Upon a time, long, long ago, upon a rock in the bay, sat a woman with long golden hair, and eyes as green as the sea.

 She sat there waiting for the sailor of her heart, wind ripped the words from her as would be. "I am here, tarry no more, come quickly..set me free".

Many a moon, passed her sky, tide entered, and left her be.

Sailors would come and ask her name, telling stories of far off isle, promising trinkets and songs of faraway lands.

Away did she stray, but not to faraway, from her place, her seat the rock in the sand.

Then one night with stars in her eyes, I stumbled out of the ship.

I came to the bay, full of rum and play.

I saw her sitting alone, her heart to pocket I would slip.

I spoke of the waves and the sun and the Skip, I spoke of the ways of the  wind.

I spoke of men having lost their lives, their souls adrift on the tides.

Never had I seen a more open heart, like a mirror of glass was her mind.

Her gaze was deep; she peered into my past, beyond words that can describe.

She spoke to me of the future to come;

promised fortunes yet to be had, like a bribe.

Stories she told, of Kings and Queens, and Princes yet to be born.

She told me more about herself more that any man would care to know.

She then took up my hand, and held it near to her so.

"My hand, my heart". she said to the count of three, she said this unto me.

It was there and then, that I swore to the tasks she put to me, never to sway from the quest.

To this day, I know not what, the wisp from earth, or the sea.

I have sailed away longtime since onboard a sturdy ship a far voyage away.

Not do I know, if she is sitting there still, her hair paling to grey, a fishmongers wife she may be.

I keep to the stories she holds, never to fail the test.

I will in my lifetime see the end of my quest, and live a life of the sea.

In my heart I hope for her that she is really free.