As fierce as fear, as weathers wild
and blast the island’s man and child.
What depth of force-found love demands,
to farm rough seas and rugged lands?
Who’d grip an oar as would a spade,
of earthen hands and salty flayed.
With skill and brawn worked surf and soil,
as one, would all and share the spoil.
Wrought stern and held through wrack and wreck,
and roused each morn at weather’s beck.
A boy who would come quick a man
and toughen up what life began.
Not yet the dawn, to sea, they'd put,
in mighty strengths of mind and gut.
Through spray and spume, the ocean trawl
and larders filled with winter's haul.
That season when the rising lark,
where ridges rolled till falling dark.
When men and maids to dig and skew,
where nowt but aches and taters grew.
Of love, who’d sing of summer seas,
a harvesting a wanton breeze.
Who’d tip his cap, who’d brave to dare
his charms to lure a maiden fair.
Poor autumn's child in tumbling winds,
to school, be damned, for summer sins.
Of line and rule, to book and pen,
from wayward waifs to scholars then.
Where now, alas, those wildish youths
when stolen from their island roots?
To spade and tack they'll take no more,
who then to grasp the helve and oar?
For they were born where once their own,
where now but mists and shadows roam.
Where men to ploughs as would to boats,
for they were born where once were poets.
-
Author:
Tony Grannell (
Offline) - Published: May 12th, 2025 05:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Poetic Licence, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments5
Your words roll like the waves and I as as Ismael am drawn to the shore. I as Melville would dive deep following the shite whale. Another lovely write that flows with mastery and elegance. I have to say I love your poems and as all nature's creations would rather let them live as they are than dissect them into nonliving pieces on the examining table. A fave
I deeply appreciate, you not dissecting my poems. I endeavour to keep them as simple as possible which I find exceedingly difficult to do, it's the sheer love of poetry/story telling that keeps me trying as do your responses and other fellow poets on this site that inspire me along and great poets ye be, one and all. Your comment is lovely. Thank you very much.
Fond regards,
Tony.
Tony your poems are gems to be cherished. True masterpieces amongst stones and sand and each one I encounter I store away in memory's box. It makes my day
The tides still reach though hands grow thin,
Oars lie quiet where once they'd been.
From spade to sail, from heart to shore,
A song remains, but boats no more.
Hello arqios,
What a poetically beautiful response. I am deeply honoured to have your most splendid verse share the same page with these once fine island folk. I am sincerely grateful.
kind regards,
Tony.
Most welcome, Tony; it is a privilege and most certainly a pleasure🕊️🙏🏻
Simply a wonderfully crafted and expressed write, I thank you for a chance to read your poetry as I am learning so much from it as well as being thoroughly entertained,
That you are entertained, makes it all worthwhile and for that, I do thank you, truly.
Fond regards,
Tony.
You are very welcome
There is a pattern here. You write and publish, I read, I am amazed, I fave. Every time! You are a brilliant poet, friend. I can smell the saltwater in this. Excellent write. 🌹👏
Hello Tristan,
As always, you are most kind, such kindness, I truly value. Thank you very much.
All the best to you,
Tony.
You are most welcome!
Wonderful story telling amid the words that build images that become living etched fully in mind and heart. Love your style of prose in poetic form.
Lovely to hear from you and that you found my story telling, wonderful, finds me on a high, for that, I am most grateful, truly.
Kind regards,
Tony.
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