The sea gipsy <br /> <br />she's anchored in our sheltered bay, a fishing boat tonight will stay <br />a forard mooring rope made fast, engine's cut, anchor cast <br />light is failing, silhouettes, casts shadows of old fishing nets <br />atop the mast a solitary light, a beacon, throughout the night <br /> <br />with the tides rise and fall, she swings on the anchor's maul <br />waves lapping against her hull, oblivious to a wandering gull <br /> decks are clear, gear stored, sleep comes to those aboard <br />on the morrow, at dawns first light, the eastern sun chases the night <br /> <br />movement aboard this working craft, is witnessed forard and abaft <br />now in the bright light of day, the gipsy prepares to get under way <br />lines are hauled, the engines started, the gipsy now, has departed <br />steaming to the fishing grounds, through the reefs and outer sounds<br /><br />Bob Gibson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sea-gipsy/
