The wind murmurs in the silver night,
As gentle waves caress the shore.
On the roof of the New England home,
Celled willfully on the widow's walk,
The lovely maiden stares out to sea,
Pining over what will never be.

As a new day dawns spilling morning light,
Sun worshipers come and bask in the heat.
Behind dunes, young lovers secretly meet.
Sand sculptors complete their castles with moats.
And from afar in the abysmal bath of blue,
Large vessels, in passing, leave no clue.

Riveting her eyes upon tiny feet,
In pools of water left by the tide.
She ponders the query---
Had be been untrue , could he have lied?

Then, all is forgot and forgiven,
When a mirage glimmers in her mind,
of a reticent man---so gentle---so kind.
But sadly and oblivious to thee,
Her wilting heart weighs nay concern,
For her beloved fisherman at the stern.

And in the throes of nostalgia,
Once again, a dancing vision sails to port.
Standing tall in high boots and gloves---
 He speaks to her.
His voice like a soft melody---soothing.
His words as the vast heavens, mystical yet moving.