by R Yates

Silently you move from the quay,
Where long you’ve enjoyed your moor.
Nimble you are as you slip away,
To explore some far away shore.

Your young rudder steers you afar,
Enjoy your adventure, your flight.
Onward till you count the final star,
Then return to me for respite.

Forward, even through the storm,
Or with following seas at your stern.
Go until with your sheets all torn,
For repair to me you return.

Forget neither the way nor the tide,
Though you think of return no more.
At the end of your voyage slip again by my side,
This is your home, and I, your harbor.

Year: 
2022
Forums: 

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