Small wooden boats

The small wooden boats. 
Travelled from overseas in my dad’s briefcase. 

Harboured now on the shelf above my bed. 

Their shadows like waves.

The blue paint on the wooden hulls matching the tub of Nivea
with my mums fingerprints in the cream.

Invisibly soaked into me. 

Chorus
I’ve hidden memories, stories and secrets
Like old shoeboxes in wardrobes.
I have avoided reflections in mirrors
And jumped over cracks in pavements.

The smell of stew on a winters night
Or half baked cookies from the oven
Potato cakes all crispy with butter.
Plates laden with love and soul.

Chorus
So many memories, postcards and phone calls 
Like laundry blowing on the line.
I have been lifted up by my reflections
Drying the tears in my eyes 

From houses built in trees at the garden’s edge 
To castles built of Stone and sand.
Every car journey was an adventure.
Destinations to explore and land.

Chorus
So many memories, photographs and echoes
Like Christmas decorations up in the attic.
I have returned home through my reflections
Mending the cracks in my heart.

Long have I sailed  away from that childhood
With story books and love wrapped days.
That’s why I have become
Who I promised to be 
From back then, to now and always 

So many memories, photographs and echoes
Like Christmas decorations up in the attic.
I have returned home through my reflections
Mending the cracks in my heart.

So Sail on strongly…
like a small wooden boat…
Carrying it’s treasures…
on a make believe wave.

Irish male folk acoustic, harp, cello, musical theatre, cinematic, emotional, live, ethereal, finale, broadway