Constant.
I have seen harboured dusk blackening sails,
ocean-face blazing with phosphorescence,
cottage walls hiding those, saline-drenched,
whose living depends on battling sea gales.
I have sighted mauve-dawn colouring vessels,
gull-beaks shrieking with frustrated hunger,
fisher men eyeing first signs of low thunder
yet constant the need for all hands on decks.
Consorting with water's alchemic nature
scribes courage on each weathered face.
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Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: March 30th, 2018 05:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 68
- Users favorite of this poem: Lorna
Offline)
Comments4
A fine write Fay.
Good description of those very hard working fishermen.
my first ever job when I left school was working with my father who owned two trawler boats at the time. I spent 5 years waving over the ocean and the sensation is great. a lot of memories for me in this poem of yours. great tribute to those men, and women too.
Your sea poems are always fascinating Fay!
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