Two women on the lone wet strand
(The wind’s out with a will to roam)
The waves wage war on rocks and sand,
(And a ship is long due home.)
The sea sprays in the women’s eyes—
(Hearts can writhe like the sea’s wild foam)
Lower descend the tempestuous skies,
(For the wind’s out with a will to roam.)
“O daughter, thine eyes be better than mine,”
(The waves ascend high as yonder dome)
“North or south is there never a sign?”
(And a ship is long due home.)
They watched there all the long night through—
(The wind’s out with a will to roam)
Wind and rain and sorrow for two—
(And heaven on the long reach home.)
— William Stanley Braithwaite, The Watchers
DaddyBear’s Den 
John in Philly
/ August 21, 2016I read and reread this poem.
I know that no matter what brave front my family put up in their letters, they missed me as terribly as I missed them.
No words in the sailor’s language are more important than homeward bound.
Now I have to go deal with an unexpected spike in the pollen level.
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daddybear71
/ August 21, 2016It’s an experience common to us all.
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