Maritime Poet’s Song

Rain and fog is smothering the harbour

Bell buoys compete against fog horn’s blare

It’s somewhere between day and evening

Too late for coffee, still too early for beer

Prowling winds rattle lightly the window

Little beads of rain like a xylophone play

Umbrellas play reach for the sky stranger

In the Maritimes just another September day

Sitting in damp clothes becomes a habit

When you have no place special to go

Coffee wrapped in a cardboard container

As I stare at my screen’s pale empty glow

My mind digs deep for vague inspiration

Or for all those things I wish I could say

I think of you, my fingertips start dancing

My heart seems to enjoy leading the way

Soon words transpose into verse then song

Capturing indelible visions of your face

The weather is but an intangible backdrop

Love’s curtain rises, the gloom to erase…