Poem for today

 As I saw the change in Southampton port, this poem was composed.

Scrapbook of an Sea Port

 

Arriving and leaving, sailing in and out

Joy and sorrow, anxiety and bravado

Immigrants, emigrants, home comers and visitors

Human flotsam swept from the sea.

Ocean Terminal built to look like the bridge of a ship

Greeting the rich, famous and the poor.

Titanic sailing to its doom

Streamers filling the air joining ship to shore

Laughter and excitement as the band plays.

Mauritania with four funnels smoking

Ploughing through Atlantic gales

To the pop of champaign corks and caviar.

Queen Mary proud and elegant

Luxury for the few, crowded for the crew.

Queen Elizabeth all dressed in grey

Disgorging soldiers to fight far from home.

Liners full of hope and fear

Black faces eager to sight the new land

Not dressed for the cold and missing the sun.

Southern Cross off to a new brave life in Australia

Brits longing for the sun and freedom.

Windsor Castle off to the Cape

Waiting for the clock to play 

“ Oh God Our Help in ages past” 

And chime four on Thursday.

United States big glitzy and brash

The fastest liner on the seas.

Ocean Terminal knocked down

The elegant front a pile of rubble

A compound for imported cars.

QE 2 sails from a nondescript berth

With iron roof but still the fanfare.

Tokyo Maru modern but like a floating Box

All angles and slab sides and functional

Like the containers she carries

Arriving and leaving anonymous in the night.

Ocean terminal gone but ships sail in and out

Always moving on.

 

 

Eddie Gubbins

Changes

 Went to cheer my daughter on as she ran the London Marathon. We made our way to several spots along the route to see her pass and give her a cheer. One place we stood and watched the runners was the Old Surrey Docks and Canada dock. It was from here I used to sail as a ships officer aboard the Baltic Venture and the Baltic Vanguard bound for Finland.

This poem occurred to me at the time. In many ways it was sad.

The Docks

 

Water glistens below the bright flower beds

Tall white buildings reflected shapes shimmering

In sepia coloured liquid lapping redundant quays

Rope fenders still clinging to the concrete walls

Iron rails sink into the tarmac unnoticed now.

Voices heard laughing, shouting, crying, arguing

As children play in the shadows of their homes.

Once deeper voices shouted, swore, and laughed 

Broad backs and strong arms pushed and heaved

Cranes banged, whined, moved and whirled

Cargo loaded for distant exotic places

Dynamic energy spilt for the demands of trade.

Now faded into folk lore, remembered by few.

Flats gardens and living people in their place.

In the sky above, a lone seagull cries 

Reminded of the sounds of the docks and

Shades of long lost ships tied to bollards and

The ghostly wail of a ships whistle never to return.