A lazy Saturday morning, as waves crash on the shore,
Watching as anchors are lifted, in search of something more,
Wind arches within snow white sails, pushing the craft to sea,
Cut from the bonds which captured it, longing now to be free.
The days of summer are waning, the leaves are turning red,
Soon ice will form on the water, the boats then put to bed,
We leave this glorious season replaced with cold and snow,
And wait again ’til spring arrives, when waters once more flow.