Sailing poems

The happiest day as some do say
Is when you buy a boat.
But then again, as others quip,
It’s when they sell the self same ship!
 
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Funny how the old topics go round again.

Your favourite sailing or sea based poem?

Here's my attempt with the help of AI -

In the ocean deep where the waters sway,
Sailing yachts set forth on their graceful way.
With Rocna anchors sturdy and true,
They conquer the seas with a breathtaking bow view.

Securely held beneath the waves,
Rocna keeps the vessel secure whilst sways
Through stormy weather and calm days,
They steady the yachts in mesmerizing ways.

So set sail with the wind in your hair,
Rocna anchors will take you there.
Explore the world, both near and far,
On a sailing yacht beneath the evening star.
 
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A ship is floating in the harbour now,
A wind is hovering o'er the mountain's brow;
There is a path on the sea's azure floor,
No keel has ever ploughed that path before;
The halcyons brood around the foamless isles;
The treacherous Ocean has forsworn its wiles;
The merry mariners are bold and free:
Say, my heart's sister, wilt thou sail with me?


Excerpt from EPIPSYCHIDION by Shelley
 
Daedelus said:
A ship is floating in the harbour now,
A wind is hovering o'er the mountain's brow;
There is a path on the sea's azure floor,
No keel has ever ploughed that path before;
The halcyons brood around the foamless isles;
The treacherous Ocean has forsworn its wiles;
The merry mariners are bold and free:
Say, my heart's sister, wilt thou sail with me?


Excerpt from EPIPSYCHIDION by Shelley
Click to expand...
I think that after that deathless doggerel it was only right that the treacherous Ocean should claim him as a victim.
 
I thought the great EJ Thribb should be included in this anthology, so have taken the liberty of knocking up a verse in his style (with apologies to the late Barry Fantoni).

So.
You have gone,
Out to sea,
With only the wind, the waves,
And a slightly leaky bilge pump
For company.

We watch from shore,
Hand raised against the sun,
Wondering if you meant to tack quite like that,
Or if the horizon was always
So unforgiving.

A gull cries.
It is not moved.

But we, standing ankle-deep in rockpools,
Salty chips in hand,
Salute you.

Farewell.

EJ Thribb (17 3/4)
 
newtothis said:
If it's deathly doggerel you're after, you can't surpass McGonagall of Tay Bridge fame, who also turned his hand to epic poetry of the seas.
A Tale of the Sea
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McGonagall’s ode to the mighty Contessa 32

Oh hail the Contessa, of feet thirty two,
A vessel of beauty, both sturdy and true!
Upon the vast ocean, through tempest and tide,
She gallantly dances, her sailors with pride.

Her keel, like Excalibur, steadfast and bold,
Defies the wild waters, the tempests so cold.
Through gales that do howl and waves that do rise,
She cuts through the fury ‘neath turbulent skies.

Oh great is her lineage, her form a delight,
A marvel of shipwrights, so slender and tight.
Her lines, they do curve with a heavenly grace,
A vision of splendour, no rival can chase!

In harbours she rests, yet longs for the deep,
Where Neptune’s dominion is vast and steep.
Her rudder, so faithful, her helm firm and true,
Guides many a sailor through seas black and blue.

For many a voyage she bravely has sailed,
Through hurricanes howling and tempests assailed.
Yet never she falters, nor wavers, nor fails,
Oh peerless Contessa! The queen of the gales!

So let us now praise her, both hearty and loud,
A jewel of shipcraft, of which we are proud!
And long may she wander o’er oceans so wide,
The brave Contessa! The sailor’s fair bride!
 
Frogmogman said:
McGonagall’s ode to the mighty Contessa 32

Oh hail the Contessa, of feet thirty two,
A vessel of beauty, both sturdy and true!
Upon the vast ocean, through tempest and tide,
She gallantly dances, her sailors with pride.

Her keel, like Excalibur, steadfast and bold,
Defies the wild waters, the tempests so cold.
Through gales that do howl and waves that do rise,
She cuts through the fury ‘neath turbulent skies.

Oh great is her lineage, her form a delight,
A marvel of shipwrights, so slender and tight.
Her lines, they do curve with a heavenly grace,
A vision of splendour, no rival can chase!

In harbours she rests, yet longs for the deep,
Where Neptune’s dominion is vast and steep.
Her rudder, so faithful, her helm firm and true,
Guides many a sailor through seas black and blue.

For many a voyage she bravely has sailed,
Through hurricanes howling and tempests assailed.
Yet never she falters, nor wavers, nor fails,
Oh peerless Contessa! The queen of the gales!

So let us now praise her, both hearty and loud,
A jewel of shipcraft, of which we are proud!
And long may she wander o’er oceans so wide,
The brave Contessa! The sailor’s fair bride!
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Much too good for McGonagall! I mean, it scans (more or less) and you used varied grammatical forms to enable the rhymes!
 
I was going to mention the Rime of the Ancient Mariner but I see that it is included in W's list. It is a good while since I read this haunting piece, but I remember enough to know when it is being misquoted.
 
This originally started as a poem by Ronald Arthur Webster.....Roger Whittaker put out a request on his radio show for poems and lyrics that he could put to music...and this was one of the entries

The Last Farewell

There's a ship lies rigged and ready in the harbor
Tomorrow for old England she sails
Far away from your land of endless sunshine
To my land full of rainy skies and gales
And I shall be aboard that ship tomorrow
Though my heart is full of tears at this farewell

For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly
More dearly than the spoken word can tell
For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly
More dearly than the spoken word can tell

I heard there's a wicked war a-blazing
And the taste of war I know so very well
Even now I see the foreign flag a-raising
Their guns on fire as we sail into Hell
I have no fear of death, it brings no sorrow
But how bitter will be this last farewell

For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly
More dearly than the spoken word can tell
For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly
More dearly than the spoken word can tell

Though death and darkness gather all about me
And my ship be torn apart upon the seas
I shall smell again the fragrance of these islands
In the heaving waves that brought me once to thee
And should I return home safe again to England
I shall watch the English mist roll through the dale

For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly
More dearly than the spoken word can tell
For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly
More dearly than the spoken word can tell
 
Frogmogman said:
Some good ones already.

Walt Whitman’s O Captain! My Captain!
has to be included in any anthology of seafaring verse.

"O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead."
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Yes but his Captain is assasinated president lincoln
 
"The Ballad of Sir Patrick Spens" is a grand poem.

'The King sits in Dunfermline toun
Drinking the blood red wine.
O where will I find a skeely skipper
To sail this new ship 'o mine?......."

It's a long poem, with a rather sad ending.

"Half owre, half owre to Aberdour
'tis forty fathoms deep,
and there lies guid Sir Patrick Spens
wi the Scots Lords at his feet".
 
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