The Cromarty Rose

Why d’you still wait for the ferry?
You’ve parked on the jetty since noon
In your holiday shorts and your sandals
That you stored in your loft until June.
Your wife hands you egg and cress sandwiches.
She cuts off the crusts to be neat.
You wish she’d offer you thick rolls with ham.
You’re biting your tongue with your teeth.

The ferryman’s down at the Pier Inn
So destiny’s out to lunch too.
Time’s flown to a hole in the ozone
Along with the ham and your youth.
Life after love is elusive
Like the Cromarty Rose and the sun.
There’s no boat to carry you forward.
It seems nothing you do is well done.

Your wife chatters endlessly on
About gossip and children and shoes.
She brushes the crumbs from your shirt
As you tune in the radio news.
Its high tide; you scan the horizon
Far out in the rumbustious surf,
As plausible anchor men go overboard
Swaying currents to negative earth.

There will always be mystery in water,
Lost Captains, and loves you once kissed,
Like the three Flannan lighthouse keepers
All vanish one day into mist.
Maybe its time to turn round
Take your wife’s hand in your hand
Tell her you want to proceed to the start
And navigate back to old land.

If grass grows green on another bank
But your Captain has taken shore leave
Maybe it’s time to start living your life
While your time to cross over’s reprieved.
The Cromarty Rose will return one day
And so will the flowering cherry
But there’ll always be beautiful coastal roads
So why d’you still wait for the ferry?