Anchored All Day
Byron D. Howell
That silver shore has but one grain of gold.
Such glory in the sun’s triumphant ways.
A sight for dreary eye and weary soul -
upon these waves, I marvel at its blaze.
As anxious tears arise a giant squall -
I batten down the hatches and go forth.
Such beauty on the distant ocean wall!
I wonder what its weight, its size, its worth.
I long to take it from that sleepy shore
and keep it for my own upon this sea.
It is the one I’ve searched and sailed for -
I wish that it would shine and just for me.
My anxious tears, of course, had other plans.
So, once again, I’m pushed to foreign sands.
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