Wednesday, 31 July 2013

An Adnams Ode


Standing at edge of the world the lighthouse blinks in time
The sky smooches with the sea in delicate rhythm
Stillness and Silence except for waves kissing the stony shore
the faint sound of sand martins whipping to and fro
from their homes in the sea wall

In the distance the ghost ship rocks gently
Inviting us to come on board and take a look
Jack Spratt stands at the helm
Studying the waves and the wind
He's content; at one with the elements

His mind drifting to days gone by
When time as an explorer where so frequent
Imagining old bob withered, weary
Sitting rocking at the tavern door
Pipe dangling from his lips,
puffs of smoke delicately blending into the air

The long slim pier at southwold somewhere in his mind
Watching the guys fishing... They seem to never leave
The smell of coffee and recently caught fish hangs in the air
They seem like sole stars rooted, grounded, little movement
The odd murmur floats around with no one listening or caring.

His mind moves to a place of comfort and stories
The kings head pub with its barrels of ale
taking people to another time and place
Where men and women laugh and ponder on life's big questions
Politics, economics, faith, village life
Where music plays and singing echo

July2013

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