Some ships sail at noonday,
Some at eventide.
Some in gentle mooring stay,
While at the quay reside.
Before the loosening of the rope,
That holds our ships fast.
To say a long farewell we hope,
And want our stay to last.
Some it seems so quickly sail,
Ere their stay has just begun.
Others who are old and frail,
Look longingly to the setting sun.
When my ship now moored to the pier,
Sails past the jetty to the open sea,
I’ll miss the loved one’s I hold dear,
Yet, long for the land awaiting me.
With the Captain at the helm,
Steadfast and sure, standing alone,
Though wind and wave would overwhelm,
Through every storm He’ll bring me home.
When despair shakes my longing soul,
And fear grabs from the deep,
He sets a course around the shoal,
In safety He my soul shall keep.
Someday filled with wind so sweet,
I’ll set my sails for the distant shore.
A part of a great and mighty fleet,
Sail home where trials will be no more.
Deane Wassink
July 30, 2002