Come Now To Flankers

Come now to Flankers with me And down through the dripping woods And out to Providence pastures free Where burnt sugarcane odor floods From swamp to sea Walk slowly, walk slowly That you may hear the nightingale Smell flowers on the dale And feel grass cuddle your feet Wrapped in a green delicious sheet. Come now to Flankers with me And sit with us, Flankers and I By the blue and lolling sea Where the white spray brims the eye Let it flow down your cheek In the silence do not speak Clouds must paint their memories where She stood beside a canoe bow Counting her pence, buying fish there Among the vacant footprints now.