Sailor

Oh, how I yearn

For the lonely sea

Where the troubles of the world

Will not bother me

Just give me a ship

And a heart so bold

For the yearn of a sailor

Is a yearn untold 

* * *

This is not a poem I actually wrote. It's a quote that I remember from one of my teachers in high school. And I'm not at all sure if I'm remembering it correctly. In fact, it might have even been a real poem that he quoted, which was written by somebody else -- although I googled it to try to find out if it was a famous poem or not, but couldn't find any reference to it. So I just wrote it down as I remember it.

The teacher was John DeGolia. He taught biology. I took his class in 8th grade, even though it was a 9th grade class. The reason I took it was not because I particularly liked science, but because I had a big ol' crush on Mr. DeGolia. My best friend at the time was Irene Rhinehart, and she had a crush on him, too. We spent a lot of hours fantasizing about him, (as one does in junior high school).

Mr. DeGolia was a fun teacher. One of the things he did was to tell "gory stories" every Friday. As I recall, he had actually been in medical school at one time. For whatever reason, he did not finish and did not become a doctor. But he had enough experiences there, apparently, to last through a lifetime of teaching high school biology. Some of the stories had to do with things that happened in the morgue, or with cadavers that were being dissected by the medical students.

Mr DeGolia drove a red Corvette and gave me and Irene a ride in it one time. (Just around the block or something -- nothing creepy. We asked him to give us a ride in his fancy car.) 

He once took our class on a field trip to "Third Hill" -- the nearest mental hospital, in Kalamazoo. I can hardly believe he was allowed to do that, but I swear I remember it. 

Anyway, for some reason he got to talking about his sailboat one time in class, and he recited this poem. Why that particular thing stuck in my head all these years is a mystery.