Beyond the edge of the shimmering sea

The old marina and boatyard you can see

Where local workmen spend all their days

Repairing every type of boat in many ways

 

Pushing, pulling, hammering, drilling

Planing, sanding, painting and filling

Flashing welding sparks flying blinding

Deafening loud noise of metal grinding

Scents of oil, grease, creosote and paint

Wafts on the summer breeze and taints

Rotted hulls, engine parts, porthole panes

Steel anchors, thick rope and metal chains

All discarded, scattered on the oily ground

All in their place where they can be found

Old wooden skids stacked in a pile so high

Old hulls propped up, elevated high and dry

 

I worry about the workmen in the heavy heat

But their workplace location is so hard to beat

In the corner of the bay this place you can see

Just beyond the edge of the shimmering sea