Harborage Road

©2008 Kaia Fowler

If you go down Harborage Road,
You’ll come to a graveyard where violets grow
May Apples spread umbrella leaves.
There lies a girl in the shadow of an ancient cedar
Hiding from harsh, sunlit memories.

And I ask of you, go to her gently.
Wake her from her lonely reverie.
Yes I ask of you, speak to her softly.
Tell her, please, it’s safe for her to leave.

Long ago midst wandering woodland rovings,
she stumbled deep into this flowery glade.
Dogwoods blooming white promises of salvation
lured her here among century-old graves.
She fell in love with the ancient cedar,
Fell in love with the violet carpet lush and green.
She fell in love with solitude, sweet sorrow,
Fell in love as if into a dream.

And I ask of you, go to her gently.
Wake her from her lonely reverie.
Yes I ask of you, speak to her softly.
Tell her, please, it’s safe for her to leave.

So won’t you go down Harborage Road, go swift, go surely.
Look for the girl, though the path prove overgrown.
Go as the wind, warm with scents of springtime,
Breath of new life in death’s forgotten home.

And I ask of you, go to her gently.
Wake her from her lonely reverie.
I ask of you, speak to her softly.
Tell her, please, it’s safe for her to leave.
Yes, I ask of you, go to her swiftly.
Bring her your love,
For it’s love that she needs.
Oh I ask of you, go to her fully.
So that she may at last be fully free
of Harborage Road. . . Harborage Road.