THE FENWICK ISLAND POEM
This is a poem written in
1959 by R. L. S. whosoever that may be, a guest at the
McSparram Cottage of
Fenwick Island, Delaware. It appeared in the Selbyville
Delmarva News, Thursday,
August 6, 1959 evidently as the guest was leaving the beach
to go back home, school,
whatever.
When the sun rises
over the ocean,
And the sale air fans
your brow,
And the waves beat
the shore in commotion
You hurry down to chow.
For something tell
you your hungry
As you never are in town
No matter what they
are serving
It's no trouble to get
it down
And then you go
clamming or fishing
Or maybe take a swim
O r Crabbing if
that's what your wishing
If that happens to be
your whim.
When each guest has
departed
On his self appointed
chore
I gather my books and
pillow
And saunter down to the
shore.
With the white sand for
a cradle
I idly dream and sleep
And watch the waves come
dancing
In from the ocean deep.
Best of all is the
twilight.
When the moon takes a
path o'er the waves
And the lighthouse is
draped in shadows
As it towers o'er the
Indian Graves.
Fenwick we hate to
leave you alone in the wintery blast
But when the winter
is over and spring has come at last
We will be back to
love you and stroll your sandy shore
To gather shells and
driftwood washed from the ocean floor.
We will feast again on
your dinners
Of chowder and soft shell
crab
And revel in your sunshine
Oh Island that's never
drab
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