floating out of the marina
and into the bay
did a sleepwalking helmsman
hear “Anchors Aweigh”
Floating off silently
to seas far off shore
cries from crew heard far on the shore
“help us all!” they implore
For on its journey out to sea
stuck in mud crew found it be
only hoping for a ride
on the wave of a passing tide
And reflecting on a passing thought
the skipper who a hope he’s bought
a help or two from a passing tugboat
and fingers crossed – he stays afloat!
The Inkwell 
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