13. Last Thoughts

I sit by the fire
Near the old, old shore,
Where the sand on the beaches
Are all white gold.
The wind at night
Is fast and its' cold,
But I sit by the fire
Awaiting till morn.
There's a wreck on the sands,
A row boat I think.
The woods are rotting
And it smells quite a bit.
But the story of it
Is the crew but one died
In the cold, cold water
Which stands in the ice.
I sit by the fire
Where it is not at all cold;
The fire is so bright
And it's nearly morn.
I remember my dog
From long, long ago;
His name, old faithful
And he stood near my soul.
In troubles or disasters
And time after time
He would always help me,
Until he was old and dying.
I comfort him down...
And I sit by the fire
Where the lights are all dim.
I thin I'm getting cold now,
And get some, some sleep in.
Only an hour to go now
An hour till morn.