Our Sun Rise Poem by James McLain

Darling woman darning, hold my fishing line,
A golden word, your face so ever tan and clear.
For my, 'dear is silver hair in bloom thine years,
Only left my whispered voice you often heard:

Only such a well it's depth is hidden in the night
From such it holds the breadth, a mighty sword,
But think what little sleep of all its foam and thy,
And wash the sand is clean beneath our feet away,
What little love is left played out to thee, you of me.

'Darling, I love thee wept, 'Darling that is why I lived
it is the whisper as it comes to fetch us sailing up from dawn
it's early morning, listen come and walk the shore,
But here is the ocean, Vast so deep and boundless,
And each one little wave you hear, its voice as well.