Privy to the wind and tide

Coastal waters tugged your heart
Into deeper oceans moon-lit dark
But still your shores ached new lands
New moorings beneath palm-wet sands
And yet you yearn for that first port of call
That line and hook of golden bait
That motion in the first wave's gate
That left your heart a squall...

poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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