The Harbour Bar Poem by Barney Rooney

Its an early quiet in the harbour bar
worn wood and weathered men
with shoulders hunched around a glass
thats slowly drunk with time to pass
and talk is curt and talk is spare
of paths crossed and passage shared
so much that's different so little changed
the world turns and who's to blame
for luck's sweet kiss or chances spurned
fortunes lost or pittance earned

there's a sureness in each slowbeat heart
each man is as when he was part
of the best crew, the fastest boat
the cleverest fishermen afloat
fast on his feet and fit as a fiddle
a fool to love but who will quibble
at a name as a fighter or hot of blood
an honest father or small town stud
when they grant the glass the warmest kiss
and reminisce on catching fish