Let’s go to the docks where the wooden boats rest
With fine-aged grooves that wrinkle their flesh
A quiet and hollow creek to their breath
And in we’ll step
We’ll bring your fishing rods and hooks
Some bait for the fish and I’ll bring some books
Then we’ll paddle on down the river
Just you and I
Let’s row to a place where the water is fresh
In that old wooden boat with grooves in its flesh
A quiet and hollow creak to its breath
And wait for a catch
And while we wait with the water and woods
Once we’ve cast the lines, I’ll read you the books
To see your smile shine across the river
And to the sky
(c) 2015
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
Let’s go to the docks where the wooden boats rest
With fine-aged grooves that wrinkle their flesh
A quiet and hollow creek to their breath
And in we’ll step
We’ll bring your fishing rods and hooks
Some bait for the fish and I’ll bring some books
Then we’ll paddle on down the river
Just you and I
Let’s row to a place where the water is fresh
In that old wooden boat with grooves in its flesh
A quiet and hollow creak to its breath
And wait for a catch
And while we wait with the water and woods
Once we’ve cast the lines, I’ll read you the books
To see your smile shine across the river
And to the sky
(c) 2015
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