So, sailor.

These trinkets
appease the wild woman
who chained herself in faith
and watched you leave.

Full use of the pretty asset
assured
with dainties and darjeeling
for the duration
of this disembarkation.

So, sailor.

You encrusted
the land locked damsel
in spoils of the earth,
rolled her doughy skin in sugar crystals
wrapped the pastry morsel
in banana leaves
and devoured.

Smiling, rummaged
through the war chest,
brandished spoils of exploration,
told tales of daring
and creatures and smells.

So, sailor.

Snoring now,
bobbing on calm water
in Indian heat.

The wave of sea-shanties passed,
my cliff base sucks shingle
in hesitant calm.
Slowly counts the rock pools,
gathers them motherly.

These are the shared memories
where mountain bulk nurtures
the sea salt jealously.

So, sailor.

Here's a supply of gentle flavour
for you to lose
in the spice
of foreign ports.