Landlocked Sailor

Colorado sailor, so far from the sea,
No salt in the air or ocean to see.
It was good to stand on the bow underway,
In heavy seas with a face covered in salt spray.
To feel the wind blowing against your life vest,
Checking to be sure it is tight on your chest.
Turning your back on the onslaught of wind,
Facing aft at aircraft fighting off the din.
Watching young men in shirts of yellow, green, and blue,
Quite a rainbow for the old salt eyes to view.
And there were the red shirts at their fire station,
Praying there would not be a break in the operation.
Purple shirts scurrying about with fuel lines taut,
Giving airplanes a pure drink without any salt.
And flight deck safety would always come first,
Men in white shirts watching for a burst.
And up on the bridge the skipper watched intent,
Making sure the men were earning their free rent.
I was just one man, on that sea going city,
And now it is all done, what a sorrowful pity.
I served my country twenty wonderful years,
But when I think of it I burst into tears.
For men and women still go out to sea,
Keeping our nation as free as can be.
All I can do is remember the past,
And wish that it would just last and last.
God bless our sailors that stand tall in the wind,
Our country is the greatest and it will never end.
ROTRUCK - 2010