When the house and isle;
Is steeped in morning
The weathered structures
Almost blend in the calm
Their gray matches;
The somber mood
This place is still and fine-tuned
To the hum of distant waves
The wind that blows here
Is light today and gentle
The mist has settled
Upon the Gray Lady
As if orchestrated by artists
Softly she sounds her beacon
A whisper riding the white caps
To the vessels that make way
To her gentle morning shores