The Reach

It's maine...

And it's autumn

The birches have just begun turning

It's life and it's dying

The lobstermen's boats come returning

With the catch of they day in their holds

And the young boys cold and complaining

The fog meets the beaches and out on

The reach it is raining --



It's father and son

It's the way it's been done since the old days

It's hauling by hand ten miles out

From the land where their chow waits

All the days get so lonely and long

And seas grow so stormy and strong but

The reach will sing welcome as homeward

They hurry along.



And the morning will blow away

As the waves crash and fall

And the reach like a siren sings

As she beckons and calls

As the coastline recedes from view

And the seas swell and roll

I will take from the reach

All that she has to teach

To the depths of my soul --



The wind brings a chill

There's a frost on the sill in the morning

It creeps through the door

At the edge of the shore

Ice is forming

Soon the northers will bluster and blow

And the woods will be whitened

With snowfall

And the reach will lie frozen

For the lost and unchosen to row --



And the morning will blow away

As the waves crash and fall

And the reach like a siren sings

As she beckons and calls

As the coastline recedes from view

And the seas swell and roll

I will take from the reach

All that she has to teach

To the depths of my soul --


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