My map by the ancients, my sexton, my star
my God in my heaven, my light from afar.
The moon to her slumber, the sun in the east;
a new day a-beckons, my canvas released.
Once hoisted and hauling in southerly winds;
a dawning horizon o’er morning she sings.
Her motions and passions, my senses aware.
to tend to her verses, her chorus beware.
Her rigging my fibers, my mast sturdy spine;
her sails on my breaths in the winds of Divine.
My bones in her timbers, my heart in her hold.
Whatever the weather an awe to behold.
Her humors to sooth to tempestuous seas.
How oft’ I have pleaded for calm on my knees.
I bore her commotion, serene in her peace;
I prayed for her mercy each day to beseech.
Her bouts of fury on the whims of her waves;
her harbours to anchor; her fathomless graves.
Her stillness, the doldrums, where suffered despair;
her beauties at sundown where found my repair.
Her myths, her monsters, of a great white whale;
flotillas to flotsam, how Bligh to prevail.
Schooners and pirates who lay cold on her bed
in cahoots with the moon, she’ll give up her dead.
Her pleasure to nurture her fruits for ye’er nets.
Pay heed to her tempers for fear ye forgets’.
Her tidings to tender to dreams she’ll comply,
when out of the blue, terra firma ahoy!
The sea o the sea over her mystery,
I’ve sailed ‘round her islands in grand company.
She gave me her all, so, what more can I say
but carried me home where she found me a bay.
My timbers are aching; my rigging is frayed;
my canvas won’t hold to the winds, I’m afraid.
Though weathered and withered, a privilege, my friend.
With fondest farewells, I’ll ne’er sail her again.
-
Author:
Tony Grannell (
Offline) - Published: August 5th, 2025 07:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: peto, Friendship
Offline)
Comments5
Always loved tails of the sea, my favorite book Moby Dick to which this poem gives a few hidden references. Full of metaphor as well it speaks to the inner soul behind the conscious eyes and even mind. A lovely piece of work with wonderful rhyme to carry it on the winds of meter. Loved it Tony
Dear Soren,
I am most grateful, very kind of you indeed. Moby Dick, a wonderful, wonderful book.
Fond regards,
Tony.
You are most welcome Tony Wishing you the best
That can be a sad day, but we all get worn out, in the end,
God blesses.
Thank you very much for the blessings, how kind of you.
Kind regards,
Tony.
Now this is one you can listen to Infront of the coal burning fire in a snug little pub, enjoyed the read
Hello, Tobani,
A snug little pub, a burning fire, a pint of Guinness and poetry galore. You've read my mind.
All the best,
Tony.
You are very welcome
See me
See the sea
I.love the sea me
This is phenomenal writing Tony
The flow carries the reader along effortlessly
"In cahoots with the moon she'll give up her dead,"
Tremendous
Hello, peto,
What a lovely response, you a very kind. Thank you ever so much,
All the best,
Tony.
Well written, my friend, the poem reflects on the complex relationship between a mariner (or sailor) and the sea, portraying it as both a nurturing and destructive force. It captures the awe, reverence, and fear that come with navigating life's journey, likening it to sailing through various emotional and physical experiences.
Dear, Friendship,
Come the sea, cometh the mariner and the many tales in their wake. Your response is as grand as the ocean itself. I express nothing but gratitude for this and all your reviews.
You are in fine health and happy, I trust,
Tony.
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