The Fog Horn

Listen… do you hear it… the fog horn it does sound
Through the mist it searches, for some familiar ground
Calling…wailing… for some unseen there boat
To safely guide it through the fog, a special private note

The house it sits an watches, safely calling home
Out to those ships passing, for fear that they may roam
The stillness….the loneliness….the horn it does cry
Then out of nowhere a sound… finally replies

I hear the call… it cries to me…my homeland far away
The mournful cry doth call me… the light…a hope…a ray
My heart its restless, an yearning, indeed I dare not roam
One day I will return, as the foghorn calls me home

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