ART WORK BY PAUL BOECHER©
A quiet, steamy morning – the wind not yet ready to hit the sails,
An ominous sky of pink tinged clouds hanging low over the still water,
Some of the boats stand anchored in the harbor while others push off to find adventure.
Where will the wind take them when once it opens billowy canvases of white?
Steam rises from heat filled waters – not a whisper of wind,
The waiting can be forever, but when the first gust fills the sails the power of God is made known.
Off to the highway of the sea.