My heart knows where to find yours
along the lines of these western shores

Beneath arms of a tree
twisting hard toward the sea

On a sandy beach
old water underneath
Fresh waves soak sand down to clams, rocks and weeds

Beside shifting seas, eager to tease
with rippling swells that dance at your feet
In a salty breeze with sandy knees
and woolen arms for holding me

Under cap pulled low against gust and gale
In the heart of a land made of tales of whales
and seafaring men with their dinghies and dories
who made it their duty to bring us sea stories

Crabs scurry, but worry little
as the sun goes down
on this sailors town
The gulls keep watch on the empty streets
and my lips find the lips they’ve been longing to meet