The Key West citizen. [volume] (Key West, Fla.) 1879-current, 1946-10-15
Red Bay Billy,
Key West Exile

key West Exile
Halt way around the world re-
moved from his native land, the
aged Wayfarer sat with his feet
dangling over the edge of the
Tickety pier. Our snub-noSed
tramp of the seas tied up. and a
young lad in his teens walked
down the gangway. and over to
the oldSter'S side to inquire about
the sights worth seeing.
Asking the oldtimer's national
ity. the reply was forthcoming
quickly and proudly-Why, son,
I'm a "Conch" and damn proud
of ID.
Then he talked of the Sponging
fleet. told how the lucky trip"
crewmen pinned twenty dollar
bills 20 the lapels of their coats,
60 flutter in the breeze. In
creaky voice. he sang "Sponger
Money Never Done" There was
Island pride in his Boosting of the
cigar factories. that made Key
West the cigar manufacturing
metropolis of the nation.
And weaving like a silken
thread through his conversation
was the irrepressible longing of
the oldtimer TO return to his be-
loved Key West, and be buried
there. Fate decreed otherwise.
His name he would not di-
vulge: his body rests peacefully
in alien soil-but-his spirit
probably sails a phantom sloop
each night from the Garrison
Blight. around and about the ia
miliar waterways of his youth.
After Red Bay Billy has reach
ed Journeys End" he would like
10 join the ''Old Conch" of this
poem. and sail on and on forever.
The key West Exile
lArnold Curry $500 Red Bay Billy
From Key West I've wandered
through the lands of snow
And reminisce of Shanghai's
scenes Of many years ago.
while trapping round in Upper
airy often have seen
Those fighting Irish proudly
decked in emerald green.
hut adding weight of years have
made my shoulders sag
And 10 the cadence of the band
these weary feet they lag,
So. the Island wanderer as the
hour of taps draws near
Can't suppress desires for his
childhoods scenes so dear.
Lord. I'm getting on in years,
accommodating grazing age,
And my tattered book of life
boasts just another page,
So. before the Angels watt me to
that far off Golden Shore
Let mine eyes behold that Island
City. just once more.
When the shades of darkness fall
Ing bring me sleep
My spirit leaves my body and
winging DER the deep
Aboard the speeding glider of
my slumbering dream
A h0mesiCk soul is waited DER
the blue gulf stream.
Where the sun shines always
bright on the waters clear
Amid the scenes of childhood
setting. to me. ever dear,
Where the mellow moonlight
soft nesting on the sod
Brings 90 the weary wanderer,
communion with his God.
Let me board my tiny craft,
hosting 90 the breeze
BillOwing sail of sturdy canvas,
scudding as | please,
With my face encrusted and
stung by salty spray
AS | sail back to my anchorage
at the close of day.
| crave no Storied mansion, just
cottage neat and clean,
And within an Island Damsel, to
worship as my Queen;
To greet me at the doorstep and
sweetly smile at me
Each day at eventide. when l
f0rsake the Turing sea.
Within the Land of my forefath-
ers. let me there abide,
Chewing 20 traditions standards,
and our Island pride.
Always ready, always willing,
despite such aging years
To yield my life in battle for the
land Of my forebears.
Lord, | am getting on in years, so
grant me this request
That when the Angels beckon me
90 regions of the blest.
With Island friends about me,
Aknrn InnanoE,,l InA No liz