Cicely Fox Smith

(1 February 1882 – 8 April 1954 / Lymm, Cheshire)

The Rendezvous - Poem by Cicely Fox Smith

A pub there is of far renown,
A pub that seamen know
In every street of Sailortown
Or sea where they in ships go down
From Clyde to Callao.

And there they say if a man should wait
A twelvemonth and a day
That all his shipmates soon or late
Would surely pass that way.

Both night and noon the door swings wide
To the noisy dockside's din,
Both night and noon with every tide
The sailormen blow in.

They come with talk of ships and men
And lean upon the bar
And yarn and drink and yarn again
Of ports both near and far.

But theirs are ships I never spoke
And trades to me unknown,
And all they see is a grizzled bloke
That drinks his drink alone.

They neither pause nor listen when
From all the oceans home
Between the tides the sailormen
I wait alone for come -

Come in with laughter on their lips
And names I used to know
And speech of men and speech of ships
Forgotten long ago.

No door swings wide to let them through,
No eye but mine can see
That all the shipmates ever I knew
Blow in to drink with me.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010

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