Sailors ashore watched
With practised foreboding,
As sky glittered threat
Under storm-clouds unfurled.
Smacking-wet raindrops
Attacking ground, dust-dry
Forked lightning revealing
A frightening world.
Thoughts turn to mariners
Battling malevolence
Panting-hot sweat keeping
Riggings in place.
Gulls, like the wind, shrieking
Wildly in concord,
Bent on effacing
The whole human race.
Mutterings and whisperings
Mouthing with pleading
'Neath increasing gale
They had not before seen.
That their Lord abide with them
As fast falls the nightime.
They crouch for deliverance
From the worst ever been.
Stunning! I can feel the air alive with the tension, fear and desperation, known only by those who have battled an angry sea.
Peril is the right word, ' O God thy sea is so great and my boat so small ' I have been to sea, and this piece is just perfect.10+
Fay, I really like this one. The end verse is fantastic
From the largest ship to a rowing boat in a storm its Gods hands that keep you afloat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brilliant painting you have created here Fay....atmospheric...thank you