Memories of sailing on small open boats before Rathlin Island had large ferries & big harbours.This describes a vanished way of life & I miss it so.
I'm going on a boat,
Not just any boat She's a hardy little beast, Sailed by hardy men Who'll meet that wild ocean,
As you cling for dear life
Whose weather beaten faces,
With wrinkled eyes
Search between the gaps,
As you cling to the worn wood
And shift to meet the surge,
Lost in silent thoughts
Between horizons,
Until they blend and meet
And harbours gladly wait,
Then with coughs and mutters
The chat breaks out,
The ropes uncoil with weathered hands
And fly in graceful arcs of practised ease,
To land again in gratitude
Until another day,
I'm going on a boat,
Not just any boat
It's hard for me to imagine Rathlin Island with large ferries and big harbours. Still, I know it's your wish...
"And if there's going to be a life hereafter
And somehow I am sure there's going to be
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea."
Sure does sound very romantic. A way of life that was probably carried on for several hundred years for those ferries and harbours were established. When I was a teenager, my twin brother and I built a dinghy in our basement in landlocked Wisconsin. It was only 8 foot long and featherlight, and wouldn't have probably handled the first wave that came along if put in the ocean.
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Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
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"And if there's going to be a life hereafter
And somehow I am sure there's going to be
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea."
JMD
Ron