By Richard Burke

Richard Burke penned the poem below some years ago and decided to share it in honor of our 50th Anniversary.




Part I

On either side the island lie

Marshland wide and river nigh,

That bound the land and please the eye;

And or’ a bridge a road runs by

          To tranquil, verdant Skidaway;

Where up and down the golfers go,

On their carts with clubs in tow,

Round the fairways to and fro,

          On golf embowered Skidaway.

But Dina and Rich nor chip nor putt,

    Nor sail in waters that abut                                         

Marshlands where blue heron strut

And rise and fall and twist and cut

          Flowing down to Skidaway.

What do they then to pass their days

In pleasant and amusing ways

On this Isle of tranquil laze,

          This golden isle of Skidaway?

Films to watch and books to read,

Deer to chase, birds to feed,

Home repairs when there is need,

But from wearying work now freed,

          Retired at last on Skidaway.

Three miles each day in sun or rain

They stroll along both path and lane

That pierce the forests of their domain,   

          Their lush domain of Skidaway.

And sitting down to morning meal,

See heron stalk and osprey wheel,

Hoping from the marsh to steal

Crab or mussel, fish or eel

          Along the shores of Skidaway;

And once each month, to their delight,

Watch Moon conspire with the night

To bathe waters dark in golden light;

          Moonlight beams or’ Skidaway.

Part II                                                                     

On a bluff ‘bove coastal water,

Settler, wife, son, and daughter,

General, cleric, merchant, pauper

To virgin forest brought new order

          Two hundred years ‘fore Skidaway.

Streets laid out in simple grid,

Lawyers, slaves both here forbid,

Tomochichi ‘Welcome’ all did bid,

          Fifteen miles from Skidaway.

Tything lots for cottages planned;

Public buildings on Trust lots stand;

Squares for fire breaks, pasturing and

In times of trouble, militia manned,

           One day’s march from Skidaway.

Still preserved those arbored Squares,

Protected now by Settlers’ heirs,

Scenes for weddings, scenes for fairs,

To harm them now no mortal dares,

          Not even one from Skidaway.

In and about those Squares renown,

Dina and Rich can oft be found

Enjoying all the sights and sound

And entertainments that abound

         A little north of Skidaway

Two centuries passed, yet still the call,

Tomochichi’s ‘Welcome’ to us all,

Embrace the city, forsake the mall

          Tho’ it be nearer Skidaway!



This article was originally published by The Landings Association on their website.

Visit to read the original article.