Saturday, August 08, 2009

Talisman from Waconia

Little yellow fisherman

"The Skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now West, now South.

Then up and spake an old Sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish Main,
"I pray thee, put into yonder port,
for I fear a hurricane.

"Last night the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see!"
The skipper, he blew whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he."

- I made this post minutes before a funnel cloud set down in nearby Minnetrista and moved towardsPlymouth.


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