Poem for her 708

Dear Readers,


The Primrose

The boat was tied to the dock
We'd gotten the supplies
We'd sold the other painting
We'd be able to go soon
The sun was just setting
The Prime Rose was there
The Primrose was our run about
The ladder up, primie tied up
The soft smell of shrimp
The noodles still hot
The shop was our favorite
This location this night
We made notes about it
The log was checked
The fire was lit
We were also older than some
They wondered about that
We told them some tales
Showed them some sails
Then made a sale
Canvas sail clothe paintings
This was a Tug
Nordic could lumber long ways
We boated coastal
We had a cabin in the woods
A beach house
A long history
And a Blue scrapbook
200 Plus insides different
Dates unknown

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.