The weather has undone the sun
excluded it from the window pane
The sky has begun to pour
and the wind is rude and abrupt
Sea craft lay horizontal on the dunes
Birds no longer command the air
Fishing boats make for shore
as bell buoy’s ring out
to point the way
A debit day it looks for some
Sequestered in my port of call
it means nothing to me
not at all
I’ll hoist my sails some other day
and ride it out in O’Leary's bar while I listen
to a merry yarn by fellow sailors in their cups...
Stephen S. Yeandle
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lyrics-from-o-leary-s-bar/
