Barnacles to gray hulls cling.
Ghost ships strange melodies sing.
Sails shorn and hang limp from splintered mast.
Days call the morrow to fit the past.
Black gulls trail and screech into the night?
Albatross swoons past the pale moonlight.
Time has come to bid farewell to the sea.
The time has come for me to acquiesce.
Farewell thee my love; sweet essence arrived.
Farewell unto this heart hence soon deprived.
So long old friend, goodnight till another time.
So long to thee, yet still you will remain in this heart of mine.
J. Allen Wilson ©
FOUR-THIRTEEN-TWO THOUSAND & SEVEN
TYBEE ISLAND, GA.