Obsession
Obsession
Oh to feel the wind in my face,
hearing the sea, as past the hull it doth race.
Being hull down, at thirty degrees,
heading for a distant port, under a favorable breeze.
Pitting ones skills, against natures wiles,
being in front of the fleet, by a couple of miles.
Taking the family out, for a picnic in the bay,
teaching the grandkids, how to sail, and play.
For me my boat, she is my favorite possession,
Yes sailing, you can say, it is my obsession.
Tango .
Copyright © 38 Tango | Year Posted 2016
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