The early autumn breeze rinses the rushes
That guard the isle to Our Lady's crown
The Sunday faithful have melted
And the silence enters again.
A shrunken lady with a tiny dog
Walks the pilgrim path in peace.
The ugly loudspeakers fallen quiet
No need for loud calls to prayer
For it has gently landed on our hearts.
And still the Sunday breeze makes ripples on the lake
That whisper of summer dreams
And keep away for another day
Cold thoughts of coming winter.
At this time in our lives days rattle
And whole weeks disappear
We accelerate on the final lap around the island
awaiting the winter shadow of death
And holy deliverance.
The schools have opened
The anxious children sit in benches
And still the September sun
Says welcome to a lonely beach
Gone are the shrieks and cries of little ones
In one small weekend the world turns
But not the sea or tide.
Waves Crashing gently on the shore
With dappled sunshine dancing on the eddies
And little birds sing in parting chorus
Ahead of travels south to milder climes
And here I sit in silence
Pensioned off and welcomed in
To natures treasure
Always here for all our pleasure.