Whispers of sound in the dark of night that I can almost hear calling from far away just outside so very close whispers of stories once told to me the lapping of wavelets and bumpers that rub creaking of lines and distant gulls cry as in times of old to answer the call go down to the sea into the long ships chilling air whispers calling to me to take my bindle go down to the sea old are those stories of things that were once remember in darkness in stillness of night