Thursday, July 12, 2007

"Slumbering harbour"

Vessels that glide are moored in rows;
Under the rainbow sky;
A majestic mountain blanketed;
Under pillowed clouds that fly;
Gusts of wind that rock the moor;
Over the whitecap waves;
Fresh odours of the sea breathing;
In what does a man's soul crave;
To ride upon the tops of sails;
Hunkered down in the crows nest;
The flight of the gulls crossing a path;
A blood red sun peering over the crest;
There is a rich flapping in the canvas;
The water and binding of ropes against wood;
I love to watch the block and tackle;
A reminder that life is good;
There are no words or description;
Replacement is an act in vain;
To need the sea is something natural;
As the moon will wax and wane;

© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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