Widow With Shawl (A Portrait)

Spoken: Widow with shawl, a portrait Dear wind that shakes the barley free Blow home my true love's ship to me, fill her sail I, a-weary, wait upon the shore Forsake her not in times of storm Protect her oaken beams from harm, fill her sail I, a-weary, wait upon the shore Whether he be in Africa Or deep asleep in India, fill his dreams I, a-weary, wait upon the shore Dear snow-white gulls upon the wave I, like you, are lamenting for my love I, a-weary, wait upon the shore For seven years and seven days No man has seen my woman ways, dear God I, a-weary, cry upon the shore