" Leaving Port to Destined Docks "

Sails of splendor, we proudly spread;

On our rafts or yachts of life.

Some trails we followed, among many,

Are etched in dark on our sails in vivid.

The time, it took, to built the yachts,

And builders involved, many now forlorn.

But the path now defined, we flow;
Flow with the fickle draft .

Fresh and lucid some memories now,

That stir our minds, to whirls of emotions;

Then we say in resigning valor,

" Those where lovely times ... ".

And now the steer ever so bound,
In search of the destined honor;

Let's cross our hearts and face the waves,

And steer this yacht to its destined docks.