“Inshore Waters”
Inshore Waters
(“RA” Radio Announcer; “R” the remembering; “L” the lost)
“RA” “Here is the inshore waters forecast for 05.00 today,”
“R” Sweet lie the night dews upon my bed, to chill the marrow raw;
icily encased in winter loneliness.
Unbroken by refreshing Spring thaw.
I in dream-cast stillness becalmed, mind adrift upon the many dead.
A haunting so refined; deep the unrelenting ache,
as wide looms the joyless void of solitude.
Silently tracing long departed words, springing clear from half forgotten time.
“RA” “Cape Wrath to Duncansby Head, and Rattray Head including Orkney,”
“R” What sang you in the teeth of gale,
“L” “A bracing day for living!”
“R” As storm tossed spray upon the jagged rocks, did mock our longing hearts.
Tears away all hope that we might find gentle summer still;
to revel once more in life’s sweet music.
“RA” “Rattray Head including Fife Ness to Berwick upon Tweed,”
“R” An awesome sight to fill my mind with dread for loved ones dear.
Tossed on anguished shores of doubt, I strove to comprehend.
Yet only could I weep,
for abundant life grown melancholic with the emptiness of vain waiting.
All alone upon the storm racked strand,
as sadness thundered louder with every breaking wave.
“RA” “Berwick upon Tweed to Whitby,”
“R” In chill of day, you said,
“L” “What ramparts tall! The work of many hands.”
“R” As wind listlessly shuddered deep into marrow;
the dark steepness, buttressed stark against all onslaught.
Mocking the frailty of human sinew by its grey cold hardness; unrelenting.
“RA” “Whitby to Gibraltar Point including The Wash,”
“R” I heard the roar of cannon bright, broadcasting incandescent slivers of death.
Utterly devoid of bitter weeping at the loss of many lives upon the silvered sea.
I wished their dark and dankly fretted beds remained forever unfilled.
Prayed their lost dreams might be enunciated, in bright joyful days.
“RA” “Gibraltar Point to North Foreland including The Thames Estuary,
“R” In balmy of Spring afternoon, you whispered,
“L” “Break not this stillness, my beloved: the call of kittiwakes, will be our song forever sweet.”
“R” Yet, I long for my cry to echo, ring round shear cliffs;
to summon up your presence once again.
Return you with haste from among the lone,
unacknowledged dead; to greet the world made new.
“RA” “North Foreland to Selsey Bill,”
“R” I held this warm wish in gentle lapping waves,
calling you back again to harbour safe.
While loneliness rose up in flood, drowning our joy with bitter sweetness.
As the silent yawning gulf swallows up our hopes,
and desolation roars in storm tide surge.
Sweeps away all remaining vestige of your gentle presence.
“RA” “Selsey Bill to St. Albans Head including The Solent,”
“R” You cursed the sky borne roar of jet, from yonder azure blue.
“L” “My work is all askew! There is no need for such,”
“R” You shouted; as silence reeled, rent gaping wide with screech of war;
fervently I prayed you close again.
That I might feel your tender warmth;
to stitch up the ragged tatters of my mind, with words of care.
“RA” “St. Albans Head to Lyme Regis,”
“R” I dread the young faces bright, held tight by incandescent fear.
All bravado drained in conflict’s terror refined by shell;
my longing – for birdsong brightly shrill.
To fill the aching void, of minds grown old with heat of battle,
numbed by it’s pounding screech.
As piercing echo sounds drab fate; felled without mercy the strength of youth, in hail of burning steel.
“RA” “Lyme Regis to Lands End including the Isles of Scilly,”
“R” With tender warmth, you whispered, as we by flowing stream,
watched it spanned by kingfisher’s dart;
“L” “Such vibrant flash of blue! Our sign of love forever new.”
“R” This languid summer’s day, bright with future hope so crisp and clear;
sweet herbs wrapped our love; In pure sweetness alloyed:
Cradled our joy, in blessed prospect of long years, to distill its tincture true.
“RA” “Lands End to St. David’s Head including The Bristol Channel,”
“R” Our way marked with bright myriad hues of glinting butterflies.
Fragile wing beats soft upon the scented air,
carried their beauty far out of reach.
To vanish as gossamer in a rising gale, that cast up the horror of alone-ness
Beyond our parting, a frosted empty void to chill the heart with darkness.
“RA” “St. David’s Head to Great Ormes Head including Colwyn Bay and St. George’s Channel,”
“R” In cool of evening, softly you said.
“L” “Think of the folk walking here in millennia past,
leaving to this place their trace of love and joy.”
“R” I looked and hoped for some sign of their passing in the herb sprung turf.
Finding only chill zephyr, that drew away your words to dark infinity.
“RA” “Great Ormes Head to the Mull of Galloway,”
“R” So I stand alone and gaze on desolate hopes grown cold with time.
Softly wrapping their sad song in dried summer herbs.
Wishing to break the bane of silence, in our parting.
Yet finding no repose save emptiness – alone.
“RA” “The waters around the Isle of Man,”
“R” In crisp morning, you sang,
“L” “Hear the pilgrim bells, they ring for joy to all the world!”
“R” I longed for them to sweetly chime our love over hill and vale
and tell the wide world – love triumphs.
To stay together in that sweetness, and glory forever in it’s beauty,
beyond all words.
“RA” “Lough Foyle to Carlingford Lough,”
“R” Yet in clear Autumn air, I heard their tongue toll – death.
Sounding out far and wide, loneliness and loss, in darkening air.
As gentle breeze caught up your words, scattered your gentle joy.
Cast you far beyond my eager grasp to cold blue horizon.
“RA” “Mull of Galloway to Mull of Kintyre including the Firth of Clyde and the North Channel,”
“R” In chill half light, you said,
“L” “What joy! To find sanderlings upon this shore.”
“R” Their clockwork motion,
paced out the waves to gleam sweet morsels from churned sands.
Our sweet repose, washed in surf drained sand, so quick,
to gain the heartache of you; long gone.
“RA” “Mull of Kintyre to Ardnamurchan Point,”
“R” I gaze alone, searching the still silent strand, with aching eyes.
I strain to hear above the rolling surf, your laughter once again.
While far horizon echoes back the emptiness;
Brittle with long solitude of wind dried tears.“
RA” “Ardnamurchan Point to Cape Wrath including the Outer Hebrides,”
“R” Here on the crystal sand by azure sea, you sang for joy.
“L” “Look Otter! A beautiful ripple on the waters bright!”
“R” I shudder in the frosted morn of ice rimmed breath,
to greet with melancholy the hope of your return.
Longing to beg your arm for warmth, finding only desolation cold.
“RA” “The waters around the Shetland Isles,”
“R” Still, here I lie upon my bed, in deep reverie wrapped.
Awaiting expected tender words,
your familiar footfall upon the step, with silent close of door.
But come you not, to make light of news so grave;
of war, want and pestilence, with tender kisses sweet.
“RA” “That is the end of the shipping forecast – here are the news headlines for today:
Peace talks have broken down, following armed insurgence yesterday.”
“R” I stir – the aching void to fill again, with mundane task of silent day.
So I hold within chilled stillness; the warmth of your presence sweet.
Until again in Shipping Forecast; I dine alone and dream.
That together once more trudge we, the well remembered shore of love, whispering our joy.