she was crying
in the sea
unloved and worn
she spoke to me

her heart and boards
were long ripped out
her diesel engine
left in doubt

yet I heard her
heard her true
in her estuary
of blue

mud it held her
held her fast
a defiant finger
for a mast

porthole eyes
that saw the years
open sores wept
salted tears

the odd bewildered
passerby
would enquire
of me "why?"

this dishevelled
bearded man
eating something
from a can

yet twas she
who rescued me
with my work
upon the quay

less days
to think of you
my retro thinking
hours few

I slept and ate
upon her deck
I found a haven
in her neck

and I lifted her
that year
out of wet rot
out of fear

I spent everything
I had
removing varnishing's
of sad

a friend helped me
with her coat
a rising tide
helps every boat

I thank the thousands
that walked past
who saw her place in life
as last

they failed to stop
and read the the signs
and saw no beauty
in her lines