
The Sea Calls By M. Clayton In the warmth of a golden afternoon, A mother waits for the clatter Of boys and their friends, soon. Silent hours pass, no chatter, Her young son has been called to the sea. In the darkness of a night without sleep, A bride reaches across the bed. Fingers brush the empty sheet, She misses the man she has wed; Her husband has been called to the sea. Playing and lau...
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