Upon the lake so still and deep
The sunrise shines, a glow does creep
The life below, feels it’s warmth, Yet all I feel is sad, forlorn
For on the lake you take a boat, to have some fun, to fish, to float.
At home I was baking bread. ‘I’ll be back soon is what you said.
‘Monday, Monday ‘ you sang out the door. A smile, a wink, I’ll see no more. For as I busied, making more bread. My darling son, he was now dead.
The boat he had, was but a farce, made from the roof of a clapped out car. And so he sailed, upon the lake, not knowing the horror of his fate.
The house was filled with a lovely smell. The boat turned over, and in you fell. Oh you could swim, but not that day. Your hobnail boots took you away. As I looked towards the gate, down you sank with the weight.
Your friend he tried, but all in vein. You went down once, then twice again. I made some butter for the freshly baked bread. Not knowing right then, my son was dead. I sat at the table and made the tea, waiting for you to come home to Me.
Then there came a rap at the door. A man there sobbing ‘you’ll see him no more’. For he has gone into the lake. Never to return, is his fate. I stumbled back, into the chair, at this man, I could but stare.
I held my chest, my poor heart shattered. To hold you now was all that mattered. Turn back the clock to breakfast time. When you were here, when you were mine.
‘Stop your crying’, the priest said to me. God has called him, now, you see. I sobbed and screamed at the loss of you. ‘Don’t you know, we want him too?
But a child of 14 years. No time can heal to stop the tears. The lake so still, the water runs deep. As I bake bread now, forever you sleep.