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Mark A Wiley
August 13, 1973 - June 12, 2019


The Unknown Shore

The Unknown Shore

Elizabeth Clark Hardy

 

Sometime at eve when the tide is low,

I shall slip my moorings and sail away,

With no response to a friendly hail,

In the silent hush of the twilight pale,

When the night stoops down to embrace the day

And the voices call in the water's flow.

 

Sometime at eve when the tide is low,

I shall slip my moorings and sail away.

Through purple shadows that darkly trail

O'er the ebbing tide of the unknown sea,

And a ripple of waters to tell the tale

Of a lonely voyager, sailing away

To mystic isles, where at anchor lay

The craft of those who had sailed before

O'er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.

 

A few who have watched me sail away

Will miss my craft from the busy bay;

Some friendly barques were anchored near,

Some loving souls that my heart held dear

In silent sorrow will drop a tear;

But I shall have peacefully furled my sail

In mooring sheltered from the storm and gale,

And greeted friends who had sailed before

O'er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.

Started by Kathy Strickland on June 28, 2019

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