There were two old convents

Far out in the sea

And in each convent

A sister seemed to be.

The two sisters

Are now very old;

Although they were once young,

So the story is told.

The sisters loved

Both the same man.

So together each felt

The other must ban.

The marrage of each other

To this one man, must be.

So that is how our story

Begins, you see.

Each sister feeling rejected

Became a nun,

And each prayed for her lover

'Till the set of sun.

Then the sisters quarreled

Over who prayed the best.

So each sister went to a differant convent

So they could rest.

Each sister wanted to be

The one to help him the most;

So each prayed and prayed

And of their prayers he was the host.

Yes they each prayed and prayed

For many long years;

And I'm sure each also shed

Many sorrowfull tears.

The sisters grew older

Then as the long years passed.

Each sister longed to see

The other sister at last.

As each longed to see

From their island home

The other sister

From which they did roam.

And then their man died,

So our story goes,

Then an ever greater longing

In each sister arose.

As the two convents

Only sat a mile apart

Each sister's longing

At last found heart.

So then one day

While the tide was out,

Each sister ran to meet the other

With a joyous shout

The sisters met halfway

On a flat rock.

Not thinking of the hours

That passed on a clock.

And with thier arms

Around each other clung,

While all the church bells

In their towers rung.

Ah yes! Since then

Many years have passed.

Our story comes

To its sad ending at last.

Although their footprints

They've left in stone,

They've never been seen since---

Together or alone.

Years have passed and we wonder

If wherever they might be

They are now all together

Praying, these three.

               Jeanne Pedersen