Treasure Island

Patrick Ladbrooke

(England)

Sailing


On the trailing edge of winter, pale light led me
To the cut, where alder and bowed willow stand
Reflected in the greys and browns of long waiting,
While winter burdened boats slack at their ropes.

In childhood days my father’s boat was tethered here,
Firm to the rusty ring upon the quay
And I still see her fine hull cut the water,
As she bestowed the grace of sail upon our lives.

The calms and storms, the fair and foul winds weathered her,
Tugged at the sheets and planks of our togetherness,
But now the ring is empty and as cold as winter,
Devoid of lives that once were firmly tethered.

Let it rest, to hold those years, for here and now
The grandchild in my arms is smiling.
Caught within her smile I glimpse my parents,
And once again those white sails fill with joy.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 01, 2009

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Comments about this poem (Sailing by Patrick Ladbrooke )

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  • Mark Dillon (11/5/2012 3:14:00 AM)

    Full circle and the beauty of granchildren and what they bring to us., great write (Report) Reply

  • Matt Mooney (10/6/2011 3:11:00 AM)

    A poem, to use a pun, that's firmly anchored.It's my kind of poetry.You expressed your emotional connection with the boat and the memory of your father so clearly and with great imagery.10. (Report) Reply

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