Backwards

When sailors come from out at sea
They come to visit dear old me
I give them cash and make them rich
From the trades I beg they fetch
Across the ocean they travel and dock
Climb the mountain to the top of saint rock
Where they find the treasure I seek
They dare not ever take a peek
Sealed and delivered it lands in my grasp
The jewel I shall forever clasp
It let's me see the future to be
And so now I'm sailing out to sea.

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Hi folks, I'm a software development manager. I've worked with computers most of my life. I write a poem a day about whatever strikes my fancy. I hope they make you smile.