My Rediscovered Treasure

We chose a quiet evening sail,
Out to sea, along the shore,
Hired a small two-seat skiff,
Claiming I'd sailed before,

A light wind puffed our sails,
We ghosted far from shore,
Fishing lines trailing behind,
Delightful, who needs more?

Enjoying the coastal view,
We sat back to unwind,
Unaware as landlubbers are,
We should have looked behind,

A dark smear on the horizon,
Quickly nearing, it grew tall,
The wind increased dramatically,
We fell victim to a squall,

My wife began to panic,
I said, “Now stay calm, my dear,”
Wrong words for any woman,
Now she’s screeching in my ear,

I bade my wife lie on the floor,
Where we hoped to store our fish,
I was stunned and much relieved,
She complied with my wish,

Steering vainly towards the shore,
A mad wrestle with the tiller,
To my surprise I held it tight,
“Am I possibly part gorilla?”

If I could have watched my wife,
Brow furrowed in surprise,
Eyes filled with lusty interest,
Her hero, despite prideful lies?

I’d forgotten our fishing lines,
Why not? I’m just a banker,
They snagged some drifting flotsam,
A firm ad hoc sea-anchor,

Safe heading held true and firm,
The sea anchor did its job,
Towards a gentle shelving beach,
Our beleaguered skiff did bob,

Crunching into the sand,
Our bow came then to rest,
Draped across the tiller,
Lay I, soaked from feet to vest,

We dragged ourselves ashore,
Our skiff now tethered firm,
My wife grabbed me, eyes a blazing,
My stomach began to churn,

As she pounced upon me,
She tore my clothes to shreds,
Profusely thanked me, like days of old,
When we were newlyweds,

I don’t want to seem ungrateful,
I fear we have hurt my knee,
Oft I worry about her heart,
She’s eighty, I’m eighty-three.