Wet, streaming sand, and the tide going down; <br />Boats on the beach, and the sails patched and brown, <br />And the heath-smoke hanging blue up above the drowsy town. <br /> <br />Strong scent of weed blowing off the harbour-bar, <br />A liner's trail of smoke on the skyline faint and far, <br />And the bell-buoy clanging, and a lonely star. <br /> <br />Wet, gleaming shore, and the sea-gull sweeping free, <br />A swinging lamp alight in the ropes by the quay, <br />And the wind singing low of a ship that waits for me.<br /><br />Cicely Fox Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/afterglow-20/
