Sailing Poem by Tango

Oh to be sailing over the sea,
hull down, with the shore on the lee.
Hearing the sound of water dashing past the hull,
and the mournful cry of a ravenous gull.
Pitting ones skills against natures wiles,
not another soul in sight, for miles, and miles.
Then come the end of the day,
dropping anchor in a small secluded bay.
Relaxing in the cockpit, supping a drink,
watching the sun, as below the horizon it doth slowly sink.

~Tango~