The Point of Oleander
(During late 1800s a May Day picnic was held for folks that lived near the Indian River in Florida)
See the white sails billow on the river
Must be fifty boats or more
Racing down the Indian from Dixon Point
To the beach at Oleander
Racing down like my dear new love
Bearing gifts of hope and wonder
To share with me this May Day picnic
On the Point of Oleander.
Hear the laughter of the games
Smell the fish a frying
Hear the fiddles sounding clean and quick
See the dancer's skirts a flying
Life is simple, life is good
There's little cause to ponder
Summer will bring it's fire and glory
To the Point of Oleander.
See the white birds gather by the landing
Must be fifty strong or more
My eyes now dim cannot see much detail
At the beach at Oleander.
But my love still stands by my side
With gifts of hope and wonder
And May Day still revives my soul
On the Point of Oleander.
Hear the laughter of the games
Smell the fish a frying
Hear the fiddles sounding clean and quick
See the dancer's skirts a flying
Life is simple, life is good
There's little cause to ponder
And summer still brings it's fire and glory
To the Point of Oleander.
“At the beach at Oleander.
But my love still stands by my side
With gifts of hope and wonder “
Perhaps fifty or more ibis like flying skirts lift to the skies; the fiddles fine tune the flock on the point in a time where we wonder, eyes weak , that a love stays by your side to dance a few steps in times gone by.