Lonesome misty Monday mornings
watch me gaze upon the swells
where the divers reach for rescue
over, under, paddling out..

Yellows, blues, and grays - so cloudy
gentle clings and hopeful sobs
Boaters bobbing, drifting; unsure
of their worthless, urgent trust.

Bring me freedom from this grieving,
save me from this endless doubt;
wave to me in sweet surrender.
Hug me goodbye

These tears...
...fade out