Once You Have Slept on an IslandI was going over my collection of old trade beads, getting ready to launch my new venture-- remember I'm jumping off and this time not going to reach out and grab hold of whatever appears to rescue me from utter failure--like I said I am launching a new blog, gotbeads2.blogspot.com, and when I came across this poem. Thought I'd share it here.
|Little Cranberry Isle from Cadillac Mt.|
Their paternal grandmother grew up on the island. The family lived there and their great grandfather ran the lighthouse. One such delightful story of life on the island is how their great grandmother would tie the youngest child when they went outside to play in order to keep them from falling off the cliff and into the sea.
Once You Have slept on an Island.
If once you have slept on an island
You'll never be quite the same;
You may look as you looked the day
And go by the same old name,
You may hustle about in street and shop;
You may sit at home and sew,
but you'll see the blue water and the wheeling
|Cadillac Mt looking North|
Where ever your feet may go
You may chat with the neighbors of this and that
and close to your fire keep,
but you'll hear ship whistles
and lighthouse bell
And tides best through your sleep
Oh, you don't know why, you can't say how
Such change upon you came,
But--once you have slept on an island
You'll never be quite the same!
~~Rachel Field, poet 1894-1942