Sea Shanty

The sea gathered her voice on the crest of the waves as dark clouds were herded by the wind as he raved in a symphony orchestrated through elements of sound composed by the air from his drafty compound. By the drum of the surf on the beat of the waves a crescendo that climbed with the sea as she raged while the wind as the maestro pulled pockets of sound from the whistles and moans as he swept ‘cross the ground. Soprano! cried the killdeer Tenor! screeched the gulls as a baritone foghorn boomed from the hull of a ship that swayed drunkenly atop of the surf staying clear of the breakers that crashed on the turf The ship creaked a response as it groaned a refrain but the deft hand of a shipwright would keep it sustained for he’d hewn and he’d whittled great emblems of love carving an angel for the figurehead and atop the masthead, a dove. When the wind stopped his jostling and the sea spent her ire the ship slipped back to its haven of warm hearths and bright fires where the men mused and wondered over great tankards of ale if the hymns and hosannas.. had been but, the wind in the sails?