Here for breakfast

   HERE FOR BREAKFAST       TIM WILLIAMS    AUGUST 2014

FAINT BELLS TOLLING
THE SOUND OF METAL ON MAST 
ECHO'S AROUND SOLVA HARBOUR
AND I STAND ON IT'S QUAY ,
A LANDLUBBER, WITH WATERY LEG'S,
AND FADED DREAMS OF LONG JOHN SILVER,
AND PIECES OF EIGHT, BUT IN REALITY
NO PARROT JUST A DIRTY SEAGULL FEATHER.

THE CHIMNEY SMOKE BLUER
THAN ANY SEA, IS DRAGGED ON THE BREEZE,
INTO MY NOSTRILS , FROM A HOME PERCHED
AS A SEA BIRD ON THE HILLSIDE, OVERSEEING
THE BOBBING OF THE BOATS, ONE
NAMED "LITTLE MOUSE" ANOTHER
MN911 AN ODD NAME FOR ANY VESSEL, 
UNLESS OF COURSE A SMALL MOUSE.

I WATCH AS THE RIPPLES ON THE WATER
HEAD FOR THE INLET, BUT FADE
BEFORE THEY ARRIVE AT IT'S MOUTH
NEVERMIND FOREIGN SHORES,
NO BOATS ARRIVE AND NONE LEAVE,
ONE HAS HER SAILS SET FOR SEA,
SET BY BUSY SAILING TYPES, OTHERS
STAY FOR BREAKFAST, AND SO DO I.