
Icy cold winds
Batter the sides;
The boat is trembling
As the barge collides.
It's our watery home,
We have known no other;
Never settled on land,
Never needed to bother.
Living is simple,
Making a bob or two,
Gliding on canals
With our son and crew.
Fuel increases,
But still we sail away;
Our home on the water
Gets better each day.
Transporting goods
From place to place,
Tons of room,
Loads of space.
We wouldn't change
This way of living:
Free of stress,
And so much giving.
The barge is our sanctuary;
May she live on
When buildings and land
Have eventually gone.
© William Sinclair Manson 2025
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