Harbourmaster

[ellyssian]

Harbourmaster
By Everett A Warren
December 25, 1991

Upon the restless bay
A buoy is slowly chanting
In solemn timbre;
Churning waves amongst the wharves
Splash and sing
Between the pilings;
And above it all
Are the gulls
Screaming in victory
As they rise from the sea --
Amidst this symphony
Can be heard
The creaking of old bones
And an old rocking chair.

He is there every day
Rocking to and fro
And listening to the sea
As the sun climbs
From her night-time
Ocean resting place;
Waves of illumination
Descend and glimmer
On the wharves;
The warm beams
Dry a tear
On the face of an old man
In his old rocking chair.

And he speaks
In a time-worn voice
Of a time
When seas were blue
And ships were tall
And the World
Remained untamed;
And we listen
To his voice
As the horn
On the point
Echoes in the fog;
But he only hears
The sailing ships of old
As he speaks to us,
Rocking to and fro
In his old rocking chair.

Copyright (c) 1991 Everett A Warren