The Short Yarn
In twilight’s grasp, secrets bold,
What shall we do with the ocean’s hold?
Glasses high, the stories told,
What shall we do with the tales of old?
’Round the hearth, our yarns unfold,
What shall we do with the tales untold?
Ocean deeps, brave and cold,
What shall we do with the brave and bold?
Sails unfurled, hearts like gold,
What shall we do with the hearts so bold?
Journeys made, in fortunes rolled,
What shall we do with the stories told?
The Long Yarn
In the twilight of the year, by the Maritime’s embrace,
Where the winter whispers secrets with a frost-etched, ghostly grace,
We recall the absent voices, in the wind’s mournful sighs,
Finding solace in the memories, under the cold star-washed skies.
Raise a glass of amber rum, my kin, to souls who sailed away,
To the stars, they’re now charting, till we meet again someday.
For bonds of blood and friendship, our anthem rings true and brave,
Echoing 'cross the harbours, in the song of wave and knave.
Gathered ‘round the hearth’s warm heart, kin of every age,
We’ll spin yarns of briny deeps, and of ocean’s timeless stage.
With champagne bubbles dancing, and future bright and bold,
In the hearth’s gentle flicker, tales of love and conquest sweetly told.
Set the sails, dear hearty souls, for treasures we'll procure,
Through tempests fierce and sunny trails, a grocer's quest so pure.
Seeking goods of vibrant hues, spices from lands afar,
Our journey's for the market's muse, beneath the merchant star.
Returning with our holds replete, to our bustling, quaint abode,
Where twilight greets with eager hands, as day’s light softly erodes,
With tales to tell, we’ve done quite well, the grocer’s shelves invite,
With goods so rare and tastes so fair, it’s a grocer’s grand delight.
So douse the sails, dear hearty souls, our odyssey finds its end,
With chests of worldly wonders, on us, they can depend.
For come what may, we’ll find a way, to stock the grocer’s store,
And soon again, we’ll sail, my friend, for goods from distant shore.
Raise a glass of amber rum, my kin, to souls who sailed away,
To the stars, they’re now charting, till we meet again someday.
For bonds of blood and friendship, our anthem rings true and brave,
Echoing 'cross the harbours, in the song of wave and knave.
In the heart of Atlantic’s tide, stood grocers, proud and true,
Three brothers, with humble stride, in the markets, their legend grew.
From a simple store’s embrace, to a chain across the land,
Touching lives in every nook, with steady, guiding hands.
Sailed they did, through storms of trade, with a vision broad and deep,
In their wake, a legacy made, and a dream for us to keep.
In the county’s humble streets, where their journey first began,
Lives the spirit that still greets, every woman, child, and man
Raise a glass of rum, my mates, to the souls who've sailed away,
In the stars, their tales relate, guiding us along the way.
For the love of kin and trade, we'll sing with hearts so grand,
In the grocer's noble shade, we find our steadfast land.