
Strand against the sea
Winter’s violence raging
Shake down for the new
Copyright Francis 2022
Strand against the sea
Winter’s violence raging
Shake down for the new
Copyright Francis 2022
As I mentioned in my last post, land was first sighted from the Mayflower on November 20, 1620, after a voyage of 66 days. Captain Jones determined it was Cape Cod and turned south to reach the land for which the Separatists had a patent – land which was located north of the Hudson River […]
The Pilgrims Reach the New World – Now What? — SaylingAway
By the hard side
of the shore,
abutments jutting out
into raging waves,
I paused,
an incessant gale buffeting
my puny frame.
Dark promontories
primed me through sea mist;
they caught my gaze,
my historic sense,
like the herring gulls circling,
riding the howling wind.
I sensed you there,
your sea-grey eyes
staring into nothing,
your soft sing-song voice
of the Borders,
ready to spoil me with sweets,
port and lemon clutched
in your wizened hand.
Somehow you were left
in this nebulous place,
our collective cries screaming
“mother! mother!” —
plaintive calls unheard
in an entangled realm of souls,
given over to the elements.
Copyright Francis 2021
This view from Southport Pier has a great feeling of space. Reflections on the shallow surface water supplement the effect of the clouds themselves. No wonder this is one of my favourite places, especially towards sundown.
Water everywhere — I can’t believe it!
The sea was writhing at Seahouses. Northumbria wild, voices calling on the wind blown from Hyperborean reaches.
And then you — your skin grey like a seal, matching your eyes, a lantern jaw jutting out like a promontory, unyielding.
So then why are you so kind? Because you are blind, like nature, the tempestuous oceans thrusting, reaching, for just one fleeting sight of your son.
Who brought me this far?
Providence cannot explain
Winter’s existence
Copyright Francis 2020