This was written by a friend of mine who is a studio musician/songwriter. I just had to have this here on my site, so I asked him if I could post it. He graciously agreed to it and I am grateful.

Soft and cold He sang to me, upon an icy winter's sea, Of
doves that fly beyond the sand, the nightingale's song
close at hand, Of masts and men which lay a rest upon
the oceans foaming crest, and rocks that break the
daring waves, of lives long lost and loves not saved.

October 1987  C. Wilson

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