We sail upon the blue seductive lake,
Thrust onward by compelling breeze.
On close-hauled tack we carve a curling wake
To stretch the confines of these inland seas.
Prepare to tack. Ready about. Lee ho.
Pull the boom across. Cleat the jib sheet tight.
Swiftly the bow comes round and off we go
To race the wind beyond the harbour light.
At dusk we jibe and set a course for home.
A soaring gull with all sails set we steer
Through rolling waves, across the surging foam.
Sails furled, at last, we rest beside the pier.
Bare mast erect we wait to sail once more
Horizon bound, free from this rocky shore.
– Neil Galloway
