From the marshes of the Delta, to the breakers of Sand Island,
from Fowl River to the banks of Point Clear,
from Battleship Park to Weeks Bay,
those few who know her, will always hold her dear.
When I close my eyes, I smell her sweet salt,
and in my head, I can picture that beautiful Bay.
Every dream touches on her, and when I get back there,
I am sure to stay.
I've traveled all over this beautiful world,
but I came from a glorious land.
And when I am lost and alone, I long for her live oaks,
her Spanish moss, and her beautiful white sand.
I am sure to raise my children near her.
We will swim in her waters, we will play on her shores,
we will cherish her majestic sunsets,
and to protect her, will be one of our life's chores.
I am on the road to a destiny unknown.
Lord, I am too far away from my Mobile.
Unsure of the future, I am missing that wonderful Bay,
and how she makes me feel.
By Denson Goff
Copyright 2005
Categories:
denson, absence, missing, war,
Form: ABC