Posted by Admin on 1 March 2008, 12:00 am
There’s a cargo now to choose,
maybe copra in canoes;
or a freight of yams they’ve stacked
where the beach is jungle-backed;
or that load of coconuts,
near the natives’ woven huts.
She’s a crank, in grievous shape,
my old schooner, holds agape;
coral reefs, perhaps, will end her trading days;
but she’s given me my fun,
lonely islands, sea, and sun,
plus … the freedom of the deep uncharted ways.
T. C. Hudson
1961
© T. C. Hudson.
Village
Parish Council