Don’t Give Up

No matter the storms that you’re facing,
Nor the westerly gales.
No matter whose hand on the tiller,
Nor the wind in your sails.
Keep your eyes fixed on the North Star,
And remember the tales
Of those who sailed here before you
And, though their memory pales,
The demons they faced then no stranger
Than the ones you face now.
So breathe deep, set your face and
Take your place at the bow.

Stephen Tomkins
1 September 2016
Singapore

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God Bless This Little Boat!

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Like ships, we’re launched into the world

Before we’re really ready.

The ground that we seek solace from

Is never truly steady.

And so we float as best we can

And try to make our way,

And even have a little fun

Before we’re drenched in spray.

Stephen Tomkins
19 January 2016
Sydney

Photo credit:
societbyofsponsorsofusn.org
http://www.photosearch.com

With a View To Breakfast

sunday-brunch1

Motionless ships set on sparkling jewels,
Brilliant-cut diamonds in deep azure pools.
Closer to shore, the worshippers bathe
As the Sun-God ascends over white sand and wave.
And framing it all, as if by design,
A towering pair of lush Norfolk Pines,
Their branches and finger-like leaves reach above,
Beseeching the Sun-God for life-giving love.
Removed from it all, by a clear glassy wall,
Sit I, like a scientist, cold yet in thrall
Of a view unexpected and perfect, serene,
Hypnotic reliever of stress, evergreen.

Stephen Tomkins
21 January 2016
Wollongong

Photo credits:
retaillawadvisor.com.au
secrets magazine.com.au

 

Ocean View

93. Heavy seas at dusk, Imperial Beach, CA-L

Wave after wave, the invasion continues,
Pounding the shore with ephemeral sinews.
Unceasing, the aqueous army advances;
Observing, it’s clear that the whole thing entrances.

The beach battles on in it’s own unique way,
Seemingly letting the sea win the day.
An unlikely defence is so expertly mounted
By armies of sand, in their legions uncounted.

Invaders advance and retreat once again;
The battle continues, a war without end.
A paradox of tumult that somehow brings peace,
A meeting of foes world-renowned for caprice.

Much has been said about maritime moods:
One day she sleeps and the next day she broods.
Perpetual motion, a palette unbounded,
Don’t turn your back or you may just get pounded!

All through the day and then late at night
The sea’s roar continues, but now out of sight.
At some point, the wind’s airy music crescendoes,
Battering huts with tin roofs and small windows.

Transient humans, the sea will remain
Completely unmoved by our joy and our pain.
Her riches we harvest but never can tame
Poseidon unchanging but never the same.

Some say she’s moody but I disagree:
There’s never been artwork that’s quite like the sea!
With every whitecap and every hue,
A masterful canvas no human could do!

Stephen Tomkins
18 December 2014