The Fisherman and his Lute

As waxy clouds fumbled about the evening sky

A fisherman sailed the seas, and searched for more

He sat upon the stern, and watched the sunlight dance

In his hands lay a lute, that whistled with the twilight breeze

He cast his anchor when the horizon outran him

And put the sails and ship to rest, alongside the quiet sea

When the seagulls settled, and the ocean stilled,

He'd bid the sun goodbye, and greet the silver moon

The fisherman took his lute from off the mantle,

And held it with tender care

But not until the tides were quiet, and the stars had dimmed their spark,

Would the lute be heard to murmur its soft serenade

The fisherman played until the night grew weary, and dawn grew restless

He played until the stars began to chatter, and the moon began to wane

But it was long after the fisherman had put the lute to rest

That its siren song began to fade

-Patrick Callaghan