There's A Rock In My Boat

 
I sail the sea I've chosen
Choppy, murky, deep
But this sea is mine
Forgo some rusted ships
that near each other  
dare not creep
 
In troubled times
A passing glance,  
more rare a wave
from shaky sailors hand
akin the sway displayed
when giving breeze does graze
the wool of sheltered sheep
 
I hear in calmer waters
folks engage
and visit land to mingle,  
sow and reap
 
Not I,
 
I float in isolation,
me and my trusted rock
chipped from forms of a  
left behind and crusted nation
that holds fields of mine old crop,
patooie  
 
It's Me and rock,
 
A rock that grows,
that shimmers neath the stars
and never helps row, oh no,
it only slows me, making near seem far
I'm smitten
 
Beckoned by the bottom,
my only friend
allured by winter wind
and leaves of autumn
on we sail sloppily