Author Information
This Battered Desk
Uprooted by the violence late endured,
I've sailed far out to sea
With this yellow lamp as bouy.
This battered desk and I
Rise and fall in rolling swell to swell,
And cresting high I westward scan and see
You as ever in the evening
Walking on the shore.
The tides do not repent, nor tides abate
Nor shall an angel in her destined flight
Perceive me lonely in the sea
And take me in her lovely arms
That we may together through the heaven fly
To walk beside you where you walk
In the evening by the shore.
July 28, 2000
R.B.C. Walters
Kansas City, Missouri
