The Island of Dream

Sing your sweet song, strange Island,

With your warm west breeze;

Soft little echoes murmur low

Mute music from the seas;

The pale moon shimmers, lost in sleep,

The stars' eyes smoulder low;

Along your shore, shy wavelets

Ebb and flow.

Sing softly your song, strange Island,

Enchanting is your power;

Dew in your sleeping forest forms

A diamond of each flower;

Charms linger on the mild, dark air,

Listen! You will feel their Spell;

Nightfall has brought them, dreaming,

Here to dwell.

by

Shirley Frances Winskill 1985