Poetry In Progress

As the morning sun arises,
creeping slowly ever higher,
it transforms the glass like waters,
to a true river of fire.

And as the glass is shattered,
by the eastbound fishing fleet,
the good folks of Richibucto,
turn over in their sleep.

But as the day progresses,
this small town comes alive.
People go about their business
like bees around a hive.

And as the day draws to a close
with ice-creams in our hands
we stroll along the boardwark
or walk along the sands

So if you like the quiet life
tranquility not fuss
next time you need a place to go
come drop anchor with us.