Rosary

ROSARY Off the North Atlantic Ocean it's a cold wind a' blowin, and a rubescent a'glowin from the rocks by the sea. There's a lass and she's been playin with the thought of her not stayin in her life--and she's cryin', as she does her rosary. Keepin count with her prayers, every mystery of Jesus on her mind, but she wants not to be leavin', if she'd never ever seen just a little bit of reason, j ust a little love to find. Off the North Atlantic Ocean she could see where she's a'goin, from the Bloody Foreland's rocky coast, and down into the sea, every prayer she's a'breathin tells her why she's a'leavin' from her life. That she's dyin', as she does her rosary. Keepin count with her prayers, every mystery of Jesus calls her on, and she wants to believe Him, in her time of greatest need, But this Celtic girl is too far gone. Too far gone. © ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet