Maggie Lachlin's Last Storm

© Teresa Doyle 2010 
 

Maggie Lachlin Gillis love her pipe. 
She'd smoke it on the back porch of her place above the harbour
Drinking black tea and molasses from the Co-op in Bear River. 

Long widowed and forgotten and alone. 
When lobster season came she'd wander back down to the harbour 
Trading stories at the cookhouse, reading tea leaves for young lovers. 

Maggie Lachlin Gillis had the sight. 
Like her Grandaddy before her she had the gift to read the water. 
She could feel a storm a-comin,' give all the sailors warning. 

Chorus: 
She heard the birds cry, and the seas crash 
And the winds roar, and the waves lash 
And the cold seas, and the high tide 
And the fierce wind from the cruel eye 
Of the storm. 

Maggie's Granddad foresaw the Yankee Gale. 
A thousand sailors perished, but not a man in Clear Springs Harbour 
Put an oar into the water, after Lachlin gave the warning. 

He heard the birds cry, and the seas crash 
And the winds roar, and the waves lash 
And the cold seas, and the high tide 
And the fierce wind from the cruel eye 
Of the storm. 

Harvest moon 1923. 
Boats on blocks for winter, Maggie Lachlin had a vision 
Saw all the boats in Clear Springs piled up at the bridge a good mile inland. 
And folks said, “Maggie Lachlin's lost her mind.” 
But when the gale roared up the Clear Springs Brook 
It pushed every boat, and line and hook, 
Piled them a mile from the shore, at the bridge, way up at the highway. 

She heard the birds cry, and the seas crash 
And the winds roar, and the waves lash 
And the cold seas, and the high tide 
And the fierce wind from the cruel eye......of the storm.