The Leeward Shore

Just a lonely point on a rocky shore
where I can hear the ocean’s roar;
just a little grove of small jack-pines,
and a humble home that I’d call mine,
on a leeward shore.

A garden green where children play;
and friends and neighbours just down the way,
and a lovely country girl, my wife,
and we would lead a happy life
on a leeward shore.

Just a quiet room where I could brood,
and watch the reach’s changing mood.
With a few friends living down the beach,
contentment could be within my reach
on a leeward shore.

***

But I must roam the globe around:
I’m not content with what I’ve found.
There are countries that I’ve yet to see,
with blue lagoon and tall palm tree.
There are dark-eyed faces and tropic nights;
Norwegian fjords and northern lights;
Italian hills and Spanish plains;
Arctic blizzards and Brazilian rains;
and a strong west wind to fill my sail,
and when I’m gone I’ll leave no trail
but a home on the leeward shore.