Rest your Oars

Thereís a bond between the sea and men most will never know.
A tighter bond exists for those that ply the world below.
The blackened hull will ride the waves until the dive command,
then disappears to depths unknown and no more sight of land.
For months on end no fresh air, no warm kisses of the sun,
they carry out their mission as the days and nights are one.
Each relies upon the other, there are dolphins on their chests,
theyíve been tested, trained and qualified, the Navyís very best.
They share stories of their families, sleep by each otherís side
and when men rise to earn their fish, the boat is filled with pride.
The bonds will last a lifetime no matter where our paths may cross
and when shipmates make their last patrol, we feel the painful loss.
We commend their body to the deep, their soul to Almighty God.
We cannot follow them just now, tis where the angels trod.
Fair winds to you submariner, itís time to rest your oars,
we have the watch until that time we meet on Heavenís shore.