Bill Mitton

Rookie - 0 Points (26-03-45 / Salford, England)

Sonar - Poem by Bill Mitton

What did I think was I doing here?
This was no old man*s cruise.
These waves belonged to the
Fresh faced, twenty something, sailors.
Their deference simply made it worse

Even here in this dark Sonar room
faces tinged green from the screen*s glow
My heart holds only loneliness
my mind ever on her who’s smile haunts me
and even their young laughter jars

The vow *never again* becomes a mantra.
And I dig inside myself for one,
Just one, small spark of joy
But my mind and heart are
Like the seas we sail, troubled and grey

*We have a contact* brings me from the greyness
and on my screen the dots appear and grow
strange, unusual contacts, *Go to aural* headphones buzz.
Suddenly my heart lifts, my eyes swim and my soul soars,
as my head is filled with waves of whale song.

Comments about Sonar by Bill Mitton

  • (1/6/2006 1:31:00 PM)

    I'm with Lucy, the way you make me see things is a true talent. Moyaxxx (Report) Reply

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  • Ernestine Northover (1/4/2006 3:28:00 PM)

    I have a relaxation tape with the call of whales on, they are such beautiful creatures and their cries are so melancholy and eerie, but lovely to listen to. Yet again a lovely poem. Love Ernestine XXX (Report) Reply

  • Lucy Burrow (1/4/2006 3:02:00 PM)

    Bill, I am becoming a fan! This is lovely. I can see all that you describe so clearly. Excellent stuff! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 4, 2006

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