Treasure Island

Ernestine Northover

(25th March 1943)

*Boats A Bobbing

I’m sitting on the jetty, feet dangling o’er the sea,
A view that’s so breathtaking, that it’s enveloped me.
The sunlight on the water, with facets shining bright.
I could sit forever absorbing this wondrous sight.

The little boats a bobbing out on the restless brine,
Their sails of rainbow colours are beautiful and fine.
Wind is gently blowing as they navigate to shore,
At one with the ocean, such adventuring in store.

I’m standing on the headland watching seagulls streak by,
There’s squawking and diving as they pulsate through the sky.
Always so hungry, forever searching for their meal,
No matter who’s food tempts them, they are ready to steal.

I’m resting on a boulder on the top of the cliffs.
Two rowing boats are proceeding I think they are skiffs.
Chasing to beat each other with their single man crew,
There is so much to observe, Ah! here comes a canoe.

A two-masted vessel, fore-and-aft rigged, a smart ketch
Sails into harbour seen above yellow broom and vetch.
Vibrant in its paintwork, she gives a scene oh so grand,
With all her keen crew, she is very expertly manned.

I’m on my way home now but it has been a great day.
The sea, sand and salty wind, with warm sun and cool spray.
My sleek hair is unkempt and my book I have not read,
As comings and goings kept me occupied instead.

© Ernestine Northover

Submitted: Saturday, May 07, 2011
Edited: Saturday, May 07, 2011

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Comments about this poem (*Boats A Bobbing by Ernestine Northover )

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  • Tai Chi Italy (5/7/2011 4:35:00 PM)

    A most refreshing read Ernestine! I long to get back to appreciating the pure essence of beauty in just being in the environment and enjoying it. I felt a cool breeze of relaxation coming over me as I read your lovely poem.

    So good to read you again.

    With a big smile from

    Tai (Report) Reply

  • Sidi Mahtrow (5/7/2011 7:01:00 AM)

    How busy you have been
    To post four poems on a whim
    (I know it doesn't rhyme
    But 'been' is difficult in its prime)

    With eyes wide open
    Listening to the din
    Of the world about you
    When others haven't a clue.

    You capture the celestial beauty
    Of the water and its bounty
    As you watched from the shore
    And duly penned it, for evermore.

    Tomorrow will come with sunrise
    And many a surprise
    So keep your eyes wide open
    And ready your paper and pen
    For a new poem is somewhere hidden
    Just where and when?

    s (Report) Reply

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