A poem by Ruth Moore
Blue Ice and Green Water
Oh, Blue Hill Bay, old Blue Hill Bay
She’s a handsome sight to see at anytime,
She can sleep in that old sun
Where the winds of summer run,
Shine in winter like a bran-new silver dime.
But don’t trust her, boys,
She’s wide and she’s deep,
Don’t mean what she says at all;
Down along her cold ledges
The sea crabs creep
And the kelp it does grow tall,
Boys,
That kelp it sure grows tall.
At four in the morning the lobster boats go,
The seiners come in from the south,
She can shoot back the sun like an I-beam of gold,
And butter won’t melt in her mouth.
But check on your spark plugs
Make sure you’ve got gas
And gear that won’t crumple or crack,
For every three years
She takes a man
And she don’t ever give one back,
Not one does she ever give back.
You can call out the Coast Guard
To set off some flares,
And hunt till your eyes drop out blind.
Blue ice and green water is all you can see,
Blue ice and green water Is all you can find.
Blue ice and green water
To the end of the land.
Best selling author Ruth Moore (1903-1989) not only wrote some of Maine’s greatest novels, but was also a talented poet who published three books of poetry and wrote ballads that have become an ingrained part of pop culture along the coast. Cold as a Dog and Other Stories is a collection of work from a career that stretches for decades and serves to highlight and showcase the remarkable breadth of her writing talent. The book includes selections of ballads, poems, and short stories that previously appeared in Cold as a Dog and the Wind Northeast, The Tired Apple Tree, Time's Web, and When Foley Craddock Tore Off My Grandfather's Thumb.