IT'S GOOD TO BE ALIVE
(In The North Channel of Lake Huron)
I sit and write this poem at ease.
The boat is anchored in the breeze.
The wind is singing in the shrouds,
While sun peeps out from rushing clouds.
Oh, it's good to be alive!
In this beautiful little cove,
I have found a treasure trove.
Pine trees, boats, the rocks and rills,
Yet every sight's a separate thrill.
Yes, it's great to be alive.
Just before the sun goes down,
Sounds are muffled all around.
The wind is like a whispered hush,
Soft and gentle as a baby's touch.
Then it's really grand to be alive.
If all could see and hear and smell,
Those things I've come to love so well,
Then they might come to understand,
Why yearly we come to this wonderland.
AND HOW GOOD IT IS TO BE ALIVE IN THE NORTH CHANNEL OF LAKE HURON!