They say the happiest day of your life is when you buy a boat.
The next happiest, expense relieved when you sell it.
But what careless dream to be afloat.
Those surging restless waves sparkling sun lit.

Out there beyond Spithead you are alone.
No crowds, regulations or e-mail questioning.
No more the rasping engine drone.
The white sails wind’s gently drawing.

But better than sailing is the happy return.
The buoy caught, the sails down, hard labour finished.
Now to that cup of tea I can turn.
Kettle humming, hot and thirst quenched.

The muscles relaxed, skin aglow, tired.
Is that why some people want to be retired.