Where the Spinnaker rises to the clouds
And near the throng of tourism crowds
The mouth of the Solent opens wide
We head across to the other side
An island stands out on its own
Wight and bright all sea worn stone
It’s a place of relaxation and tranquillity
A place where few have shaped their destiny
A place to unburden heavy loads
A reward for dues paid and owed
A place to convalesce and regain mental health
Arriving from the journey is reward itself
Not known for its healing of sanctity saves
As tides lap in with white peaked waves
Reap the benefit as the island extends
And feel at peace as an arm it lends
To be welcomed by the warm bosom of Wight
To be hugged and held on a starry night
To those that have felt this comfort
From regular visitors to residential imports
Are hurrying back to come again
To settle down ensconsed to remain
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