the wind makes such a misty sound
rustling through the town
and when the ships set sail
the gulls flutter, around, around
the women in their cottages
brewing cider, sweet
their children play games indoors
outside what frigid evil would they meet?
the wind rains harshly
tis misfortune upon the sea
little 'uns praying for survival
wherever it need be
will the ships go down, go down
in the windy sea?
daddy please forbid the ocean
from taking thee away from me
for what lonesome hope lies there
upon the sandy floor?
the mist will claim your body
when the spirit lurks no more
the sails flap in anger
as the ocean opens wide
the wood creaking its unease
the sea's teeth devour sailors with gasping eyes
the apples in the orchard
tumble from their trees
like the bodies that were plucked
and now pock the moaning sea
Copyright 2005 voix de femme
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