December 2nd 1938 – January 6th 2013
Frank was never happier than he was spending a day on the water, beer in hand, sharing stories with those around him. He lived his life chasing simple pursuits, the sum of which amounted to an extraordinary life.
Sometimes at eve, when the tide is low, I shall slip my mooring and sail away, with no response to the friendly hail of kindred craft on the busy bay.
In the silent hush of the twilight pale, when the night stoops down to embrace the day and the voices call o’er the waters flow, sometimes at night when the tide is low, I shall slip my mooring and sail away.
Through the purple shadows that darkly trail, o’er the ebbing tide of the unknown sea, I shall fade me away, with the dip of a sail, and ripple of waters to tell the tale.
Of a lonely voyager sailing away to mystic isles where at anchor lay, the crafts of those who have sailed before, o’er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.
A few who have watched me sail away, will miss my craft from the busy bay. Some friendly barks that are anchored near, some loving hearts that my soul held dear, in silent sorrow will drop a tear.
But I shall have peacefully furled my sail, in moorings shelter from storm or gale and greeting friends who have sailed before, o’er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.
From Ginny & Carri Capers