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Harbor at Morning
The anchors that restrict me drift away at sea
Where each part of our sailing ship glides in harmony.

Some they sail for pleasure, others great treasures seek,
For me and my brethren our goals are more oblique.

We tack against the hum-drum, as our sails unfurl;
Great beauty in majestic ships that embrace our world.

Landlocked lubbing lads who toil at desks all day
Have never felt hearts rise and fall with sting of salt spray.

Ships of different sizes, from dinghy to great yacht,
Transport us from mundane to world where all gavotte.

Horizons dreamed of remain forever out of reach;
To Sail beyond the sunset we must leave the beach.

A boat more Brobdingnag we do require
To sail away from ennui’s muck and mire.

For now we smell the salt air, as we hug the coast,
But our sailing dream shall never give up the ghost.

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