I watch the waves crash against the rocks, feeling the spray on my face,
It's nice to stand here, to listen and contemplate in this deserted place.

The sky is blue and grey, the sea reflecting its angry stare like a mirror,
A flock of ducks haunt the waves, drifting, waiting - a lonely flotilla.

My thoughts turn to you, my dear friend and love in so many tales,
Come with me to this place one day, I want your breeze in my sails.

Even as the snow falls ‘pon the waves mingling with the tide,
I think back to the old country and the joy of Christmas tide

When the Meadows begotten of the summer sun lay lame with dew,
I want to be back there and enjoy a glass of mead with you.

Say you will still be there when I have done my lonely vigil,
When I can return whence I came, and partake of winter ritual.

Now my dear, I write from my little lighthouse, waiting to be relieved,
When our love will be rekindled, and all my kisses softly received.