Passage Of Sir Drake, (1) Poem by Captain Cur

Utter reverence from South to Northern gate
Stalking slowly the passage of Sir Drake,
Each man salutes those who have gone before
Men exemplar who found Atlantic's door.
Those capsized, perhaps, best can tell the tale
Of feats accomplished, journeys doomed to fail,
Legends speaking though laid down to their rest
Eyes still peering from the narrow of the depths.
From England to Spain's unassented eye
Primed their sails with linaments of the sky
Circumnavigating, tracing the earth,
Seeking riches for England's hungry purse;
A pilgrimage fraught through dark and holy night
Beneath the moon, earth's maiden garbed in white,
Upon the sea, its shining devout breast
Directing waves that rise and genuflect
Penitent through the long and fruitless years
Hardships logged, though not least among their fears.

Leaving Plymouth this sun washed bluing day
With light winds sweeping mist inside the bay
Vaporous ghosts lingering near the hull
Muting echoes of the anchor's rising thud.
Pelican, a ship of fated resolve,
Clinging close to view appears then dissolves
Paradoxically as light is shun,
Outward measure's of sight reduced to none;
But, in the banquet of a glorious sun
Inward vision remains though feasting done,
Tranquility prevails in silent calm
Each stronger thought giving the weaker alms,
In the company of this sumptuous fare
Faith sustaining hope feed those who dare.
This field of adventure, a complex grain,
Planted in the tiered garden of the brain
Watered by blood of a stout fearless heart
Seeding passion heroic deeds impart.