White sails are turning homeward as the dusk is falling.
Children loiter in the park, don’t heed their mothers calling.
In the west the sun sinks in an orange-golden blaze,
While in the east isles disappear in pink and purple haze.
The evening Angelus is tolling from the church upon the hill.
Lovers hand in hand upon the strand are strolling still.
Scraped oyster shells upon the rocks lie empty, white and stark.
Light is fading fast. Above high water mark
Black mud and green sea-weed desecrate the beach.
Water laps against the pier and ebbs beyond shore’s reach.
Out to sea the day’s blue water turns to grey,
The sombre hue of melancholy ending of the day.
Darkness falls, and silence. I am here alone,
Gazing out at islands disappearing in the gloom.
I see the pale moon rising over line of sea and sky.
Ships, folk, birds, have gone to roost, and so must I.