Echoes from a sad soul

 

That’s my song

 

First time

I dreamed the Major Thirteen

was just over sixty

falling down to sea

With no parachute.

Before  splatting the water

I asked the wind

To appease my drop:

So did the wind.

Then I started singing.

Say the fishermen

Along the Cornwall coast

If they hear a song

At windy full moon nights.

That’s might be my song.