Where Go The Boats?

When I was a child, one of my favorite books was an old, pretty battered copy of “A Child’s Garden of Verses” by Robert Louis Stevenson.  I still have it – cover gone, pages falling out.

The idyllic pastoral illustrations and fine poetry captured my young imagination. I think it has quite a bit to do with my turning into a songwriter, or perhaps I was drawn to it because I was to be a songwriter? Who knows….

Last Saturday my family had the pleasure of an invitation to a party way out in rural Ohio at a wonderful farm that is “off the grid”. One of the things that off the grid means is that this family creates its own electricity with windmills. Of course, If you wanna watch TV you have to get on the attached bike and start pumping. No couch potatoes here.

I have lots more to write about our time at the farm – and pictures too – but today I will leave you with a poem and a photo or two of the handmade boats on the creek that runs past the farm.

Where Go The Boats? 
by Robert Louis Stevenson

DARK brown is the river.
  Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
  With trees on either hand.
Green leaves a-floating,          
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating—
  Where will all come home?
On goes the river
  And out past the mill,   
Away down the valley,
  Away down the hill.
Away down the river,
  A hundred miles or more,
Other little children   
Shall bring my boats ashore.

2 thoughts on “Where Go The Boats?

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