Sailors and Sentries

Our harbor comes alive
Every summer morning,
Whenever there are
Fair skies and following seas.

These stalwart sailors
Don't miss a chance
To be out on the water,
Catching the breeze.

The youth sail in circles
Under the watchful eyes
Of the old salts at anchor,
And others underway.

Like little ducklings
Learning to live life
Through a fine form of
Purposeful parental play.

From my perch above them,
All I hear is silence,
Though I can see there are
Several motorboats humming.

The sentry rescue boats
Must be always at the ready
For bursts of speed;
Rescues require fast running.

The young sailors will
Soon sail in silence;
The only sounds they'll hear,
The wild wind and waves.

It is fun imagining
Those who discovered
The many continents
Were sailors similarly made.