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Poem by Lincoln Ross Colcord Gaspar Straits We passed the Watcher at night And dawn put out its sinking light; All day we held the fair monsoon, All night we ran beneath the moon; And in the early morning hours We smelled the near land and the flowers, And saw, abeam, the hillsides on The southwest point of Billiton. A little lighthouse, white as snow, Looked out upon the strait below; Each garden was a tiny square, Terraced and blooming everywhere; Toy cows were grazing on the grass, Toy men ran down to see us pass; It must have been a pleasant place, To wear that glad and smiling face; But we held such a steady breeze, The village soon was lost in trees. Lincoln Ross Colcord Lincoln Ross Colcord's other poems: 1189 Views |
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