This is written in his honor. With a smile.
Bob, I should have listened.
I’m a man of truth and sails and puppy dog tails, make no mistake of that.
But I find that most I meet to be naive and elite, possessing little fact to stand on.
When they talk aloud of discoveries found I still may concede to listen,
Then they say, in their gay little way, “not that I have, but that’s what I heard of”.
Posh!
So I’m prone to do some research, investigate and critique.
For it seems my fellow man, in all his Shazam, can be a bit, shall we say, oblique.
But sometimes, oh so rarely, I hear a voice speak from defeat,
It makes me smile when this kindred soul of guile stands up and by chance we happen to meet.
We talk the talk and walk the walk, sharing insights and opinions.
In inebriated bliss we may even share suspicions.
One such man, we’ll call him Bob, took to enlighten my every suggestion,
drinking IPA on a sunny day, gave me warning that I should never have questioned.
“Beware the buoy, leave it well alone, only grief will it bring too ya.”
With a wink and a grin, I downed my dry gin, and leaned in for a little verbatim.
“Bob” I smiled, so aloof I have said “I’ve already read all I need to know. I have bought a contraption of thought and distraction that will ensure a successful ultimatum.”
He leaned back with a sigh, content with his try, this is all he could do for the novice.
So next day we left our dock, contraption and blocks, setting course for parts so far unwritten.
Then that day, that faithful day, came calling like the devil.
There I stood, booties and hood cursing that buoy as spawn and evil.
4 AM, or was it 5? My mind numb from the grind unending.
It seems dear Bob, his warning with cause, was right and these demons should be smitten.
So here I am, a wiser man, duly humbled at my friends suggestion.
I can only ask of those many new to the task,
“When it comes to buoys can I sell you a contraption?”