Ballad of the Great South Bay
by Tim Huss
She lies to the south of a golden isle,
that the natives called Paumonok for a while,
and her waters go with the tides in the style of an eastern seaboard bay.
Once her waters ran pure and her waters ran clean,
led by the creeks and cleansed by the sea,
her waters were the womb of a life that teamed with each night and sparkling
day.
He came back to the bay many years ago,
to return to a life where his father toiled,
and he watched the seasons come and go as he worked from day to day.
And the bay was his mother and the bay was his wife,
through summers sun and winters strife,
from her bosom he sought to scratch a life.
These waters know there are reasons,
why we are part of all living ways,
hear her plea and wiser people we would be,
to hear the cries in a great but tired bay,
hear the cries in the winds o'er the Great South Bay.
The changes they came slow at first,
neither he nor his lady seemed the worse,
but soon no one could quench the thirst of a drained and hardened bay.
For they spoiled the creeks that gave her strength,
they laid waste to her coastal length and wondered where the good life went,
that they had yesterday.
It wasn't long fore there came a time,
when he had to fish the south side,
for the northern borders could not hide the pains put into the water.
And others came who cared much less about the bay or what was best,
and they took his lady east to west,
and few there would support her.
The time had come for believing,
that we were part of all living ways hear her plea,
wiser people we would be
to hear the cries in a great but tired bay,
hear the cries in the winds oer the Great South Bay.