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PORT OF CALL

I hear the whistle of our incoming ship.
I'm making pictures of a make-believe trip.
Docking in the Islands, to soak up some sun,
me and old friends, having make-believe fun.

Chorus
They may call it foolish. Escapist, I guess,
but I find it soothing, a way for mind rest.
It eases the stress of a long string of days,
at rest in the Islands, catching some rays.
My Port-Of-Call - a visit in mind -
far from the noise of it all-
space to relax and unwind -
in a make-believe Port-Of-Call.

I don't care what they say, or how they may tease.
I've found a way to give my mind ease.
I hear Island music adrift on the winds -
and leave the confusion, to join my old friends.

Chorus
They may call it foolish. Escapist, I guess,
but I find it soothing, a way for mind rest.
It eases the stress of a long string of days,
at rest in the Islands, catching some rays.
My Port-Of-Call - a visit in mind -
far from the noise of it all-
space to relax and unwind -
in a make-believe Port-Of-Call.

(© 2004 -"Future Folk" Music - Betty J. Curtis)

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