small craft in a harbor that’s still and serene give no indication what their ways have been they rock at their moorings all nestled in dreams away from the roll of the sea

their stern lines are calling a lullaby air a ghost in the cuddy, a gull on the spar but never they whisper of journeys afar away from the roll of the sea

o had they the tongues for to speak– what tales of adventure they’d weave! but now they are anchored to sleep and slumber a lee, a leeeee

come fair winds to wake them tomorrow we pray come harvest a-plenty to them every day till guided by harbor lights they’re home to stay away from the roll of the sea

(ca regional women’s choir like two years ago… “away from the roll of the sea”)