Table Bay
The sun sets over table bay
and that rough sea lies calm
and a moon rises full,
above the waves
and the thundering breakers
roar like they did
many years before
Odysseus sailed from the island of Ithaca
and went to Troy to war
where he accompanied the heroes
Neoptolemus and Philoctetes and the
armour and shield of great Achilles,
was his to take
and for years he dwelt
on stormy seas and in far away lands.
If per chance his ship would stray
and reach the cape of storms
in another age and time
and his eyes could see
the beauty of that lovely shore,
no other place would
his ship sail to
When Bartolomeu Dias set his ships sails
and left king John ashore,
he was prepared to sail
to the ends of the earth
and no horrendous sea creature
could keep his ships in check.
I wonder what he thought
when the fog faded away
and table mount sprang into view
and table bay lay stretched out
up to its shore
and when he set his cross
did he know that he was marking
a great place
and when he marked his charts
did he wish to come back
to that stormy Cape?
When King John gave the name
Cabo da Bõa Esperança,
did he know that he was naming a place
from where a nation would sprout
and that it would become a city of hope?
[Reference: =>”Cabo da Bõa Esperança=>Cape of Good Hope”]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Van der Decken
Sometimes just before a breaking storm
standing at the old wooden tiller of your ship
far away from the Cape shore
you sail forever more,
smitten to ride the waves eternally
even with a windless pail stormy sky
driving your ancient ship across the sea
with it creaking, with sails trembling
with the woodwork ages long needing repair
right out of the forming fog
you appear with a fist clenched above your head
still cursing the creator God
as a token to all men,
even witnessed by a king,
by naval ships at war
you Van der Decken, sail on forever more.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Adamastor
Nearing the Cape of storms
ships sail and sailors pray
to their gods to prevail
when suddenly out of the blue
storm clouds gather
and lightning bolts flash down
while unseen and like a phantom
the giant of the ages
barbaric and savage
the Titan Adamastor
watches ever morose,
resentful and unforgiving
drawing the sea in his fist
and throwing a great
unpredicted crashing wave,
causing sudden storms
and gale force winds,
calling thunder to hit down
like Thor’s hammer
and in his workshop brewing storms
and out of the granite rocks at times
where his body lies entombed
his spirit rises angry.
Numerous ships are wrecked
along the shore,
where giant elder god Adamastor
rages ashore
among the sandstone cliffs
and in anger forever more
sends storms, great winds
and throwing thick fog
to draw ships on ridges and sharp rocks.
[References: Rounding the Cape by Roy Campbell and Canto V Vasco da Gama (Os Lusiadas) by Luis de Camões.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ghosts Of Cape Horn
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Some who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
See them all in sad repair
Demons dance everywhere
Southern gales, tattered sails
And none to tell the tales
Come all of you rustic old sea dogs
Who follow the great southern cross
You were rounding the horn
In the eye of a storm
When ya lost er one day
And you read all yer letters
From oceans away
Then you took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Come all you old sea dogs from devon
Southampton, penzance, and kinsale
You were caught by the chance
Of a sailors last dance
It was not meant to be
And ya read all yer letters
Cried anchor aweigh
Then ya took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sailing Ships
(coverdale/vandenberg)
Do you remember
Standing on the shore,
Head in the clouds,
Your pockets filled with dreams
Bound for glory
On the seven seas of life,
But, the ocean is deeper than it seems
The wind was with you
When you left on the morning tide,
You set your sail for an island in the sun,
On the horizon, dark clouds up ahead,
For the storm has just begun
Take me with you,
Take me far away,
Lead me to the distant shore
Sail your ship across the water,
Spread your wings across the sky
Take the time to see
Youre the one who holds the key,
Or sailing ships will pass you by
You cry for mercy,
When you think youve lost your way,
You drift alone, if all your hope is gone
So find the strength and you will see
You control, your destiny,
After all is said and done
So take me with you,
Take me far away,
An lead me to the distant shore
Sail your ship across the water,
Spread your wings across the sky
Take the time to see
Youre the one who holds the key,
Or sailing ships will pass,
Sailing ships will pass you,
Sailing ships will pass you by...
Take me with you,
Take me far away,
Well ride the wind across the sky
Spread your wings and you will see
You control, your destiny,
So sailing ships dont pass you by
So take me with you,
Take me far away,
Well ride the wind across the sky
Spread your wings and you will see
You control, your destiny,
So sailing ships dont pass,
So sailing ships dont pass you,
So sailing ships dont pass you by...
Baby, baby, baby, baby,
Youll find that youre the only one
Can sail your ship across the sky
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Ships
If all the ships I have at sea
Should come a-sailing home to me,
From sunny lands, and lands of cold,
Ah well! the harbor could not hold
So many sails as there would be
If all my ships came in from sea.
If half my ships came home from sea,
And brought their precious freight to me,
Ah, well! I should have wealth as great
As any king who sits in state,
So rich the treasures that would be
In half my ships now at sea.
If just one ship I have at sea
Should come a-sailing home to me,
Ah well! the storm clouds then might frown,
For if the others all went down
Still rich and proud and glad I’d be,
If that one ship came back to me.
If that one ship were down at sea,
And all the others came to me,
Weighed down with gems and wealth untold,
With glory, honor, riches, gold,
The poorest soul on earth I’d be
If that one ship came not to me.
O skies be calm! O winds blow free--
Blow all my ships safe home to me.
But if thou sendest some awrack
To never more come sailing back,
Send any--all that skim the sea--
But bring my love-ship home to me.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Song of the Crew of Diaz
On the Discovery of the Cape of Good Hope,
or Cape of Storms
Where no sound was ever heard
But the ocean's hollow roar,
As it breaks, in foamy mountains,
Along the rugged shore:
Where ev'ry wind of heaven
That has terror on its wings,
Howls to the startled echo
That through each cavern rings:
Upon that world of waters,
Where nought has ever pass'd
But the storm-bird's glittering pinions,
As it whirls amidst the blast—
Where no sail has ever wandered
Beneath that troubled sky,
Frowns the stately Cape of Storms
O'er the drear immensity!
Above whose hoary summit,
Where captive thunders sleep,
Three huge black clouds for ever
Their dreadful station keep.
We have gazed on what no other
Has ever gazed upon—
We have braved the angry spirits,
And our victory is won.
We have conquered all the dangers
Of a yet unfathom'd sea;
And we bring the prize of glory.
Our country, Spain, to thee!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Voyage to the Depth
Voyage to the Depth
By: Adam M. Snow
Woe unto us, one of many,
Yet was not the foe-of any-
Unto us the storm crashing tides,
But to sail on, voyage to the depth.
I envy Seas, whereon we rides-
By thee captain side, I stand tall.
Waves crashing upon the haul,
The creaks of soaked oaken rot.
A sound throughout the ship had caught.
Tossing and turning, the ship sailed not.
The thoughts of death upon us all,
Among this time, we all stand tall.
We await the time calming sea,
To sail this voyage once again.
We know not the curse may be,
But we know to sail on to the depth.
None-the-less to live on dreaming,
As we sail the moonlit tides gleaming.
A glistening light in the far distance,
Our only hope to our existence.
That might prove useful and yet never proves.
Closer we are, the further it moves.
Lest not give up hope,
For many should cope.
A journey seen fit till the end.
I should not dare to leave my friend,
But if we do not see the shore again,
I make mend of my very sin.
But the stormy seas rages still,
This voyage ceases to thrill.
Lightning clashes throughout the sky.
A time like this, all things must die.
Journey on to that dark horizon,
Until our bodies rot and wizen
All but I am sickened for home,
Out at sea, do we roam.
Many are ill since lost at sea,
All now knows what our curse may be.
Traveled the world, many times till now,
Onto the depth, our soul soon sail.
We leave behind our eternal vow,
Our promise to return to our love somehow.
We now sail down the river Styx,
Free from the havoc ocean tides.
Lost at sea, not a month but six,
As we leave behind our many brides.
Our vision's clearer than ever before,
Our voyage ends, not a glimpse of shore.
Our soul sails on, unto the abyss,
Our life's voyage went amiss.
We leave behind a story untold,
Many a child to whom never hold.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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The Last Buccaneer
The winds were yelling, the waves were swelling,
The sky was black and drear,
When the crew with eyes of flame brought the ship without a name
Alongside the last Buccaneer.
"Whence flies your sloop full sail before so fierce a gale,
When all others drive bare on the seas?
Say, come ye from the shore of the holy Salvador,
Or the gulf of the rich Caribbees?"
"From a shore no search hath found, from a gulf no line can sound,
Without rudder or needle we steer;
Above, below, our bark, dies the sea-fowl and the shark,
As we fly by the last Buccaneer.
"To-night there shall be heard on the rocks of Cape de Verde,
A loud crash, and a louder roar;
And to-morrow shall the deep, with a heavy moaning, sweep
The corpses and wreck to the shore."
The stately ship of Clyde securely now may ride,
In the breath of the citron shades;
And Severn's towering mast securely now flies fast,
Through the sea of the balmy Trades.
From St Jago's wealthy port, from Havannah's royal fort,
The seaman goes forth without fear;
For since that stormy night not a mortal hath had sight
Of the flag of the last Buccaneer.
poem by Thomas Babbington Macaulay
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You’re in another country called Cape Town
I peer at a city
while the rain is pouring down
and see blue-white thunder
falling from the sky
while dark clouds are milling up high
blown by storm winds
and the smell of rain
rises fresh from the earth
and my thoughts loiter
and I know where I am
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.
Below me I see the zoo
and a city stretched out
in clear squares,
great buildings among statues
and gardens,
and on a hill
the sacred place of a nation
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.
The houses in the suburb
are build for the summer heat
with verandas and big rooms,
with yellowwood floors,
with fans in the ceilings
and yards as big as parks
and trees with purple blue blossoms
lining every street
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.
I hear a crowd roaring
in the stadium near to the university
for their rugby team to win
and everywhere blue flags are waving
and some faces are painted blue
and some heads have caps
with horns thrusting into the air
and you’re in far off Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.
On the other side of the mountain
avocado and some tropical trees grow
and here I stand in the hero’s acre
among the fallen great
and to Andries Pretorius
I offer my salute
and in church square
my eyes stare
at the statue of uncle Paul
who still faces north
now turning green
and you’re in another country called Cape Town
and I in my Pretoria.
[Reference: To -. Composed at Rotterdam by Thomas Hood.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Wreck of the Abercrombie Robinson
Twas in the year of 1842 and on the 27th of May
That six Companies of the 91st Regiment with spirits light and gay,
And forming the Second Battalion, left Naas without delay,
Commanded by Captain Bertie Gordon, to proceed to the Cape straightaway.
And on the second of June they sailed for the Cape of Good Hope
On board the "Abercrombie Robinson," a vessel with which few vessels could cope;
And in August the 25th they reached Table Bay,
Where a battalion of the 91st was warned for service without delay.
To relieve the 91st, which was to be stationed at Cape Town,
An order which the 91st obeyed without a single frown;
And all the officers not on duty obtained leave to go ashore,
Leaving only six aboard, in grief to deplore.
There were 460 men of the 91st seemingly all content,
Besides a draft of the Cape Mounted Rides and a draft of the 27th Regiment;
But, alas an hour after midnight on the same night
A strong gale was blowing, which filled the passengers' hearts with fright.
The ship pitched heavily and could be felt touching the ground,
Then Captain Gordon warned the Sergeant-Major and officers all round,
That they might expect a storm, to him it seemed plain;
And, as he predicted, it blew a terrific hurricane.
And the passengers' hearts were filled with dismay,
And a little after three o'clock in the morning the cable broke away,
Then the ship drifted helplessly before the merciless storm,
While the women and children looked sad, pale and forlorn.
Then the thunder roared and the lightning dashed in bright array,
And was one of the greatest storms ever raged over Table Bay,
And the ill-fated vessel drove in towards the shore,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh and loudly did roar.
And the ship rolled and heaved with the raging tide,
While the seas poured down the hatchways and broke over her side,
And the ship wrought for herself a bed in the sand;
Still Captain Bertie hoped all might get safely to land.
'Twas about seven o'clock when daylight did appear,
And when the storm ceases the passengers gave a cheer,
Who had been kept below during the awful night,
Then in small groups they came on deck, a most pitiful sight.
Alas! sad and dejected, sickly looking, pale and forlorn,
Owing to the close confinement during the storm;
And for a time attempts were made to send a rope ashore,
But these proved futile owing to the raging billows which loudly did roar.
Then one of the ship's cutters was carefully lowered over the side,
And her crew towards the shore merrily did glide,
And succeeded in reaching the shore with a leading line,
And two boats were conveyed to the sinking ship just in time.
And to save the women and children from being drowned,
Captain Gordon gave orders to the 91st all round
For the women and children to disembark immediately,
Who to God were crying for help most, frantically.
And the 91st made a most determined stand,
While lowering the women and children it was awful and grand,
As they lowered them gently into the boats over the ship's side,
Regardless of their own lives whatever would betide.
Then the sick were to disembark after the women and children,
And next the 27th Regiment and Cape Mounted Riflemen;
And from half-past eight till ten o'clock the disembarkation went on,
While the women and children looked ghastly pale and woe begone.
The disembarkation of the 91st came at last,
And as there were only two boats available they stood aghast,
Because the boats only carried each time thirty;
Still, the work went on for four hours most manfully.
And at half-past three the last boat left the ship's side,
And o'er the raging billows the small boats did glide,
Containing the officers and crew who remained to the last,
To see the women and children saved and all danger past.
And after a night of great danger and through a raging sea
Seven hundred souls were carried from a sinking ship providentially
And among them were trembling children and nervous women also
And sick men who were dying with their hearts full of woe.
But thank Cod they were all saved and brought to land,
All through Colonel Bertie Gordon, who wisely did command
The 91st to see to the women and children's safety,
An order which they obeyed right manfully;
And all honour is due to the 91st for their gallantry,
Likewise Captain Bertie Gordon, who behaved so heroically.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Discoverer Of The North Cape. A Leaf From King Alfred's Orosius. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
Othere, the old sea-captain,
Who dwelt in Helgoland,
To King Alfred, the Lover of Truth,
Brought a snow-white walrus-tooth,
Which he held in his brown right hand.
His figure was tall and stately,
Like a boy's his eye appeared;
His hair was yellow as hay,
But threads of a silvery gray
Gleamed in his tawny beard.
Hearty and hale was Othere,
His cheek had the color of oak;
With a kind of laugh in his speech,
Like the sea-tide on a beach,
As unto the King he spoke.
And Alfred, King of the Saxons,
Had a book upon his knees,
And wrote down the wondrous tale
Of him who was first to sail
Into the Arctic seas.
'So far I live to the northward,
No man lives north of me;
To the east are wild mountain-chains;
And beyond them meres and plains;
To the westward all is sea.
'So far I live to the northward,
From the harbor of Skeringes-hale,
If you only sailed by day,
With a fair wind all the way,
More than a month would you sail.
'I own six hundred reindeer,
With sheep and swine beside;
I have tribute from the Finns,
Whalebone and reindeer-skins,
And ropes of walrus-hide.
'I ploughed the land with horses,
But my heart was ill at ease,
For the old seafaring men
Came to me now and then,
With their sagas of the seas;--
'Of Iceland and of Greenland,
And the stormy Hebrides,
And the undiscovered deep;--
Oh I could not eat nor sleep
For thinking of those seas.
'To the northward stretched the desert,
How far I fain would know;
So at last I sallied forth,
And three days sailed due north,
As far as the whale-ships go.
'To the west of me was the ocean,
To the right the desolate shore,
But I did not slacken sail
For the walrus or the whale,
Till after three days more.
'The days grew longer and longer,
Till they became as one,
And northward through the haze
I saw the sullen blaze
Of the red midnight sun.
'And then uprose before me,
Upon the water's edge,
The huge and haggard shape
Of that unknown North Cape,
Whose form is like a wedge.
'The sea was rough and stormy,
The tempest howled and wailed,
And the sea-fog, like a ghost,
Haunted that dreary coast,
But onward still I sailed.
'Four days I steered to eastward,
Four days without a night:
Round in a fiery ring
Went the great sun, O King,
With red and lurid light.'
Here Alfred, King of the Saxons,
Ceased writing for a while;
And raised his eyes from his book,
With a strange and puzzled look,
And an incredulous smile.
But Othere, the old sea-captain,
He neither paused nor stirred,
Till the King listened, and then
Once more took up his pen,
And wrote down every word.
'And now the land,' said Othere,
'Bent southward suddenly,
And I followed the curving shore
And ever southward bore
Into a nameless sea.
'And there we hunted the walrus,
The narwhale, and the seal;
Ha! 't was a noble game!
And like the lightning's flame
Flew our harpoons of steel.
'There were six of us all together,
Norsemen of Helgoland;
In two days and no more
We killed of them threescore,
And dragged them to the strand!'
Here Alfred the Truth-Teller
Suddenly closed his book,
And lifted his blue eyes,
With doubt and strange surmise
Depicted in their look.
And Othere the old sea-captain
Stared at him wild and weird,
Then smiled, till his shining teeth
Gleamed white from underneath
His tawny, quivering beard.
And to the King of the Saxons,
In witness of the truth,
Raising his noble head,
He stretched his brown hand, and said,
'Behold this walrus-tooth!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Halcyon Days Of Our Teddy
Tranquil seas they oft' beckoned to me~
From the deep fathoms yes they did call~
Echo's of a peaceful sapphire ocean~
Reverberated against New Englands vast tidal wall;
Oh the days could be so idyllic~
As were the calm seas of yesterdays lore~
Where happiness 'twas e'er so deep and undeniable~
Back in the days of yore;
Oh the halcyon days upon the New England waters~
Sailing off cape Cod as in days and years before~
And at the wheel you could find me-'The Captain'
On my way 'cross the deeps Neptune ruled floor;
The salt air 'twas oh so invigorating~
Breathing in Cape Cods most salty breeze~
Sailing upon tranquilitys waters away from tragedy~
With so much serenity- it would bring me to my knees;
Now I am sailing upon the Sea Of Eternity~
The Shamrock sails are up and at the ready-the go~
Sail on-sail on- beloved Lion of our hearts~
You're now at peace with John, Bobby and your mother Rose...
Dedicated to:
Beloved Senator Edward M. Kennedy
Born February 22,1932
Died August 25,2009
Buried with his brothers John and Bobby
Arlington national Cemetary-Arlington Viginia
Gone but not forgotten.
We Love You!
poem by Theodora Onken
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Cabo Wabo
Ive been to rome, dallas, texas
Man, I thought Id seen it all
Around the world, search in every corner
Man, I thought Id hit the wall
Theres a sleepy town, south of the border
If you go there once, youll be there twice
Lots of pretty girls, coming by the dozens
The white sand sure makes a tan look nice
We can crash on the beach
You know I wanna make love in the sea
We gotta try a little dance, so cabo wabo
Its alright by me
Come on, let me take you down
I will show you around
Let me take you down
Face down in cabo
Kissing the ground
Lands end, youd have to see it
Aint no picture ever say it right
Walkin the streets doing that ole, the cabo wabo
Place comes to life every night
I wanna crash on the beach
You know I wanna make love in the sea
Its all right there
We dont have to chase it
Fits paradise to a t
Come on, let me take you down
I will show you around
Let me take you down
Face down in cabo
Kissing the ground
We drink mescal right from the bottle
Salt shaker, little lick a lime, ohhh
Throwin down, down tryin to reach the bottom
Where the guave worm, well hes mine all mine
Come on, crash on the beach
You know I wanna make love in the sea
Go try a little dance, so cabo wabo
Its alright by me
Let me take you down
I will show you around
Let me take you down
Face down in cabo
Kissing the ground
Face down,
Down in cabo
Take me down,
Down to cabo
Face down,
Down in cabo
Doin the cabo wabo
Take me down,
Down to cabo
Come on, get it, get it
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Land versus the Sea
To the man on the shore, the sea
With its vast expanse, appears lovely;
With sparkling waves of immense beauty,
That calms the mind of its devotee!
The incessant roar of sea-waves is awesome,
And drowns the ears which welcome;
Time seems to have come to a halt
To those who sit by the water with salt.
The foam and froth and spray fill the air-
A treat to the eyes which watch and stare;
The sand under the feet too slips and goes
Back to the sea, its home, of course!
The sea is home to creatures lot;
Its breeze is so cool to skins that are hot;
The lives of fishermen on it depend;
A watery grave to some, it may just end.
Who can deny the sea doesn’t bring mirth
To mankind, right from its very birth?
Oh, once it spanned the whole surface of the earth,
Receding just before the first man got his first breath.
But to the man in a ship caught in a storm,
The land holds hope and appears calm-
A haven to those who desire less harm,
That keeps sailors off deep seas, warm.
The sea is hope to fishermen, may be;
The land is hope to men amidst a stormy sea;
With joy and sadness in both surely,
They live in threatened amity!
And yet, at other times, the sea
Is a scene of great tranquility;
Twirling its waves high, infinitely;
And tossing them onshore in spontaneity.
Oh, what shall we call it- necessity,
Enmity or Nature’s harmony;
Or the land’s immeasureable agony,
That’s an endless pity?
Or is it a show of love and of hate,
From time immemorial that won’t abate?
And yet, the sea takes the upper hand,
Gnawing the coastline of the land-
That changes so very often,
Sometimes, becoming misshapen.
What’s the sea without the land?
What’s a shore without its sand?
A struggle for existence:
A land in hapless defense?
There is hope and joy in both;
There are dangers lurking stealth;
Yet, both obey the Maker’s word,
That remains to mankind, always unheard!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-14-2001
poem by John Celes
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Strenght Of Our Love
The first day i set my eyes
on you we bond same ship
we sail like there is no tomorrow,
In this ship we merry some time
tears drops, in the middle of
stroms and massive wind mixed
with lighting we hold on. Together
we fought the pirates, that shows
the strenght of our love. Great waves
but it just can't stop us.As the ships
around us are sinking our determination
keeps ours flowing.sailors and captains
praise the beauty of our ship and our
determination to reach our destination.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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Costa Concordia
Now hear the misanthropes cry out with joy,
The mighty giant lies crippled on her side.
Rejoicing o'er the hated crippled toy,
The jackals celebrate her loss of pride.
Of fate's sad triumph over man's great dreams;
No mention made of all the ships that sail
So safe - it's tragedy preferred it seems,
So blame the ship, when one man's judgement fails.
The pessimists in comfort rant and rage
Of Nature's power and follies of mankind;
They take the benefits of this great age;
Of how they came about the fools are blind.
But those who reason are not turned by lies,
‘Tis but a hurdle - progress on will race.
Perhaps Concordia will never rise,
But other ships will sail to take her place.
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Table Bay [2]
I can hear the waves roar,
slamming shingle on the rocks, the beach
drawing in and out
on Bloubergstrand
and the cadence is a age old shuddering
of waves breaking, continuing like before
and in the distance Table Bay
lies stretched out specked with
hundreds of little lights
like a enormous crown
with the flat mountain top
on display, etched against the night sky
and its full tide, the moon is full
yellow and magnificent
and the place of good hope,
lies on the shore
with waves breaking forever more
and lonely the beach stretches out before me,
in a long white ribbon
and the dark water goes out to the horizon,
almost as far as I can see
and the sea wind is fresh and new
and there's no light in sight
on the wavering ocean
just a darkness that envelopes me
as the waves
are throwing pebbles out
and drawing them in
before breaking on the beach
and there's nobody to be true to,
nobody to trust, only the reality of the here and now
and all hope, all promises, all joy and pain
remains the same
swept in and out of a confused world
forever breaking, forever rushing in.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Ships...
Sebastian Cabot returned from Spain,
To delight in England's shores,
He needed a route to old Cathay
To trade his wool for furs,
The Straits were held by the Spanish Dons
The Cape by the Portuguese,
Between them, strangling English trade,
He championed English needs.
So he formed the Merchant Adventurers,
To seek out a north-east route,
Each man hand-picked for his diligence
And conformity, to suit;
They had to be 'knit in unitie,
Obedience in everie degree',
So that no dissent would afflict them when
At mercy of tides and sea.
He chose three sturdy sailing ships
To seek the fabled course,
That would take them over the top of the world
Where man hadn't been before,
The Bona Confidentia
Was a ship of ninety tons,
Carrying victuals to serve the crews
For a voyage of fifteen months.
The Edward Bonaventura carried
The pilot of the fleet,
The seadog, Richard Chancellor,
A seaman, most complete.
But then, the Bona Speranza carried
The leader of the three,
A soldier with no ocean skills,
Sir Hugh - Hugh Willoughby.
They sailed at last by Greenwich there,
By Good King Hen-ery,
He bid them well, and weather fair
As they headed toward the sea,
But the winds blew up, and the seas were rough
And they sheltered for forty days,
Along the English coastline that
Was hidden in mist and haze.
They sailed past Scandinavia
Toward the Lapland coast,
So close that they could hail each other
To save one being lost,
But by the Lofotan Islands there
The wind it howled, forlorn,
And Willoughby failed to trim his sails,
So ran before the storm.
The other two fell far behind
Lost to each other's sight,
The seas hurled furious waves to
Batter the ships all through the night,
But when the storm had spent its force
And the sun rose, grey at the dawn,
Willoughby found the victuals ship
But Chancellor had gone.
The two remaining ships stayed close,
They crossed the Barents Sea,
They reached Novaya Zemlya then
Turned back, in misery,
The ice was just beginning to form
On yard and deck, and sail,
They headed back to find Murmansk
But ice lay on the rail.
By the cold Arzina River mouth
The ships were locked in the ice,
With never a human soul to see
In a million miles of white,
The seamen hung on the frosted rail
And searched while their eyes could see,
Then went below as the cold and snow
Closed in on their purgatory.
Willoughby sat at his cabin desk
And wrote in his diary,
'The land lay not as the globe was made,
I should never have put to sea.
The world up here is like frozen glass
And it streams from the yards and sails,
'Til the ship turns white, and disappears,
Into the landscape pales.
For months they fed on the victuals there,
Burnt sea-coal to warm their bones,
The sailors fell in a stupor, lay
In their bunks, or thought of home,
But the ice, it cracked, and the ship, it creaked
As the pressure built up outside,
And many a man was crazed, and ran
In search of the countryside.
And so they died there, one by one,
From fear, from cold, alas;
While Willoughby sat at his desk so still,
His diary frozen like glass,
It lay on the table, its final remark
Was to puzzle men, three years on,
With the ships of frozen statues found
Where they'd dropped and died, to a man.
The entry stood out stark and bare
With his frozen pen at his side,
As if he'd been trying to tell the world
How the last of his seamen died,
'There were strange beastes, to us unknowen,
And wonderful to be seen,
Prowled round the ship in the midnite gloome,
Dear God - I have locked me in! '
2 November 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Island Of Souls
Billy was born within sight of the shipyard
First son of a riveters son
And billy was raised as the ship grew a shadow
Her great hull would blot out the light of the sun
And six days a week he would watch his poor father
A working man live like a slave
Hed drink every night and hed dream of a future,
Of money he never would save
And billy would cry when he thought of the future
Soon came a day when the bottle was broken
They launched the great ship out to sea
He felt hed been left on a desolate shore
To a future he desperately wanted to flee
What else was there for a shipbuilders son
A new ship to be built, new work to be done
One day he dreamed of the ship in the world
It would carry his father and he
To a place they would never be found
To a place far away from this town.
Trapped in the cage of the skeleton ship
All the workmen suspended like flies
Caught in the flare of acetylene light
A working man works till the industry dies
And billy would cry when he thought if the future
Then what they call an industrial accident
Crushed those it couldnt forgive
They brought billys father back home in an ambulance
A brass watch, a cheque, maybe three weeks to live,
And what else was there for a riveters son
A new ship to be built, new work to be done
That night, he dreamed of the ship in the world
It would carry his father and he
To a place they could never be found
To a place far away from this town,
A newcastle ship without coals
They would sail to the island of souls.
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pirate's Bride
Sometimes in the light at the edge of the world
Is the ghost of a ship with it's black sail furled
And night after night she would stand on the shore
And dream of the love that she knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a thought for the ways of men
We set sail for the Spanish Main
To rob the ships of the Queen of Spain
And she would be his pirate's bride
She gave him the pistol and the sword at his side
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again
Full fathom five my true love lies
In a fine wooden casket with gold on his eyes
Where is the glory and where is the pride?
Where is the joy for the pirate's bride?
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
Here in the light at the edge of the world
He'd wait for a ship with it's black sail furled
And day after day he would stand on the shore
And dream of the life that they knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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