Swansea Marina
D
David Wood
0
Altın Yaprak
Yellow sun low on horizon
Masts of yachts point
To pale blue sky above.
Rigging singing in the wind,
Water lapping against hulls.
Swansea marina sleeps on.
Men with woolly hats and
Faded jumpers tinker.
A lick of paint here,
Touch of varnish there.
Sitting on deck smoking.
One yacht leaves her berth,
The sound of her diesel motor
Softly breaking the silence
Of the misty tranquil morning.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş