Upon the whispers of the tide,
Where sea and sky and secrets bide,
A schooner rests, its anchor deep,
Beneath the clouds that softly weep.
Upon the breakers, jagged, worn,
The cormorants greet the breaking morn.
With sable wings and eyes so clear,
Guarding Drayton Harbor waters without fear.
What secrets do they guard or share,
Between the realms of sea and air?
Among the breakers, they remain,
Silent keepers of the tides in Blaine.
And so they linger, bound by fate,
Observers of the schooner’s weight.
A bond unspoken and never asleep,
The Harbor Guardians of anchors deep.
