Post by Administrator on Jun 9, 2022 14:00:31 GMT
A SEAMAN'S THOUGHTS OF HOME
Give me the land where the mountains are high,
Where the blue of the sea, meets the blue of the sky.
Where the green rolling hills are kissed by the sun,
Let me return before life is run.
Give me the rocky bound coast of that shore,
Where the salt of the sea, joins the lake of Bras d'or.
Where the thistle weeps with the dew of the morn,
Let me return to the place I was born.
I'll take that island, that heart warming sight,
Where the black of the pits robs the black of the night.
Where miners trudge home when backshift in through,
Let me return to the friendships I knew.
But I'll never return, for those days are no more,
My friends and my kin are long gone from that shore.
So let that dear island fade with the day,
So much for my thoughts of going that way.
Ian Adrian Millar
Give me the land where the mountains are high,
Where the blue of the sea, meets the blue of the sky.
Where the green rolling hills are kissed by the sun,
Let me return before life is run.
Give me the rocky bound coast of that shore,
Where the salt of the sea, joins the lake of Bras d'or.
Where the thistle weeps with the dew of the morn,
Let me return to the place I was born.
I'll take that island, that heart warming sight,
Where the black of the pits robs the black of the night.
Where miners trudge home when backshift in through,
Let me return to the friendships I knew.
But I'll never return, for those days are no more,
My friends and my kin are long gone from that shore.
So let that dear island fade with the day,
So much for my thoughts of going that way.
Ian Adrian Millar