Looking Aft

Over the yardarm looking aft,
And harkening back to days gone by,
Tall ships off the beam and abaft,
Their sails silhouetted against the sky.

At the mark on a windward beat,
Schooners and square-riggers are close-hauled.
So leaning where wind and wave meet,
Wooden ships and iron men are recalled.

And in the song of silent sails,
With shanties sung on lofty craft,
These tall ships hold so many tales,
For we modern folk looking aft.

And seen it is at the mizzen,
When looking back beyond the stern;
In this age of iron ships risen,
It’s to sail we wooden men yearn.