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”)