He had the look of sailor
Bushy trim, inbled ink
Lips to liquid elegance
Gave me cause to think
I saw his soul
People passed in passing
As they passed and passed on by
I was caught from passing
By reflections in his eye
I saw his soul
In vino told his verity
Crystal goblet crimson stained
Identity invisible
Absent but for pain
I saw his soul
He mused of distant lands, he spoke
Of places he had been
Of service, home, his children
And a wife he’d hardly seen
I saw his soul
He told of losing hope and faith
Of wishing death’s release
Of deepest well he’d ever known
Of falling to his knees
I saw his soul
I asked him frankest questions
And he did not balk from truth
He analysed and after thought
Depicted foolish youth
I saw his soul
He did not ask, I never said
His wine was eloquent
I lived a little of his life’s
Redemptive glass, a gent,
I saw his soul
He gave me food for future
In the telling of his tale
I gave him gloves and scarf, a coin
And wished him fair thee well
I saw it all
scottishmomus 