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Friday, 7 April 2017

A Ship Hand's Woe

Ahoy, aho,
No place to go
To escape the cold.

Were I bravely bold
I would leave this wheel
To go to peel
The ice from my hands.

Ahoy, aho,
No place to go
To escape the cold.

Off to foreign lands
With the promise of the sun,
A story I was sold -
I would have gladly not begun
If I knew the way was cold.

Ahoy, aho,
No place to go
To escape the cold.

We are still so far
From our glorious star
That visions of those
Hot sold shores
Lie buried under iced up pores.

Ahoy, aho,
No place to go
To escape the cold.

Copyright Andrew Stevenson 07/04/2017

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

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