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Run Away to Sea
There's a tall ship in the harbor tonight,
It's calling my name, should I go?
It's a three-masted schooner with impressive rigging
And a place below deck I could stow!
The white sails are billowing in the wind;
She looks like such a majestic vessel;
But where is the honor in running away?
With all of these thoughts I must wrestle.
"I'm not running away," I stubbornly think,
"I'm just seeking a grand adventure!"
Or are you trying to escape all of your troubles?
My conscience gives me a lecture.
My gaze lingers long, taking her in,
Looking from prow to stern.
E'en as I stand, my resolve starts to crumble;
My head tells my heart the lesson to learn.
I watch as the crew loads up on the dock,
One swinging ropes as another moves a crate.
I wish I could lead that carefree life,
But there are those back home who wait.
I take a last glance to remember her by:
Her strong wooden masts, the boom, the mainsail,
The figurehead at her prow a symbol of freedom,
The crew of men who've caught many a whale.
Soon, come dawn, she will depart,
Leaving the harbor for open sea.
As for me, I turn back to the mainland,
To find my own way to be free.
© P.M. Turner
It's calling my name, should I go?
It's a three-masted schooner with impressive rigging
And a place below deck I could stow!
The white sails are billowing in the wind;
She looks like such a majestic vessel;
But where is the honor in running away?
With all of these thoughts I must wrestle.
"I'm not running away," I stubbornly think,
"I'm just seeking a grand adventure!"
Or are you trying to escape all of your troubles?
My conscience gives me a lecture.
My gaze lingers long, taking her in,
Looking from prow to stern.
E'en as I stand, my resolve starts to crumble;
My head tells my heart the lesson to learn.
I watch as the crew loads up on the dock,
One swinging ropes as another moves a crate.
I wish I could lead that carefree life,
But there are those back home who wait.
I take a last glance to remember her by:
Her strong wooden masts, the boom, the mainsail,
The figurehead at her prow a symbol of freedom,
The crew of men who've caught many a whale.
Soon, come dawn, she will depart,
Leaving the harbor for open sea.
As for me, I turn back to the mainland,
To find my own way to be free.
© P.M. Turner
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