Sugar&Spice Poem by James McLain

and to speak of post hole diggers,
long lost leaning rails,
fences in modest states of disrepair.
D.n.a......puddings rich spice...
and misty drapes..sewn from cotton,
bales washed up on shore...and the fat..
walrus down below...moving on the rocks...
and an island life with no cares...
and no phone...look out below here I come..
and fresh from the sea..the raw fish...
muscles beards..so very long...ago...