You left early this morning,
Headed again out to sea.
Promising to safely return,
This very evening to me.

I sit here alone by myself,
Watching each ship return.
All the while a fear in me,
Feeling no where to turn.

I knew your love of fishing,
Living in the outer banks.
For this love so very special,
I try always to give thanks.

Just please return to me,
Again at the end of this day.
Don’t put me on my knees,
Humbly bending as I pray.

The Lord has true purpose,
For all of these fishermen.
Beside you on each journey,
Always there until the end.

Come home to me my love,
Warmly hold me until light.
Comforting me once more,
Beside me through the night.

The thrill of the outer banks,
Is a story which is often told.
Ask any fisherman present,
More precious than pure gold.

The outer banks are calling,
For you to return once again.
A call the fishermen answer,
All knowing how it can end.

© Brenda Sparkman
August 28, 2005

Midi Playing: "I Miss You" © Bruce DeBoer

"Dreams" © Russ Docken
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