Shipping Forecast

I'm drifting on an airbed in an ocean,
Typing random Morse code on my phone.
My bed lacks you as far as the horizon.
Without you here I really feel alone.

I cannot know the depths that must be travelled,
The waves that must be ridden to a fall.
The rigging of my craft is lost, unravelled,
By Lundy, Fastnet, Irish Sea, Rockall.

I call your name into misty space,
The sounds disperse like snowflakes into sea,
Ritual words, sometimes understood,
In South Utsire, Forties, Cromarty.

It's five o'clock. I'm lying in the darkness,
Listening to the radio above.
Only you can understand my hardness,
Only you can calibrate my love.