The fog is closing in. I sit alone
And watch the blinking lights across the bay
Or ‘neath the haloed moon with its soft play
Of silver light upon the pebbled strand
I hear the tinkling wavelets on the sand.
The South wind lulls the restless earth to sleep.
She passes softly o’er the heaving deep.
And soothes the soul of man into content
Beneath the everlasting firmament.
Yet as I sit and gaze upon the scene
so unsurpassed in beauty and serene
as peace itself, within my breast
There is a quiet but deep unrest,
a secret longing not akin to pain,
a yearning to come back to you again.
A wish for peace, a life well spent in love,
a home, some children, and a treasure trove
of memories unmarred by hate or fear,
a chance for joy again because you’re near.
Surely the dawn of peace will break again.
The Gods of war will die and peace shall reign
once more upon the earth. And love shall be
triumphant in the hearts of you and me.
All my love to Tancy, from Phillips (1944)