Ginny

The security of hope, stretches different ways, think I’ll always cope, will go home soon, in a sun that flays, pockmarked yellow stones, down the Boston slopes, I can see kids play, jumping harbour ropes, the cool evening dew, is when my debts are paid, nothing surprised or smooth, do my folks know, think I'm down on holiday, indifferent stars unfold, night clouds race the moon, hear my songs of praise, ride out like a schooner, take me faraway. .