Old Cape Cod,

I'm going back to the Cape;

Where salt waves greet the pine,

And battered sea hulks drape

Their arms in the ocean's brine.

Where glint of silver sail

Against a turquoise sea,

Or droning bell-buoy's wail

Hold a breath of ecstasy.

I'm going back again

Where tangy breezes blow,

And hark to fishermen

Tell tales of long ago.

Beside a weathered shack,

As waves salute the shore,

And gaunt trees stand forth black,

Cape Cod calls me once more.

Marjorie Bassett