|Posted by lisaspoetryfromtheheart on June 12, 2017 at 12:50 AM|
The chance of writing poetry for performance perhaps is always something to be grateful for and this is my latest offering. Written for a programme about Boston and poetry. I hope they will use it and I look forward to meeting up with benjamin Zephaniah.
Silent oars bear them away from persecution.
Stealthy as a fox they slip away,
Escaping deserted moorings.
Sails rustle, unfurl,
Fill as wind breathes freedom.
Pilgrims all, they huddle in cold darkness,
Dreaming of a new start as waves lick hull -
Praying for a future in a kinder land.
The angry North Sea tosses them like flotsam,
Battered and bruised, like the ship itself,
They rock and shiver.
Merciless waves echo grim tattoos of submission;
Until gratefully they drift to harbour.
Ship now too frail to last another onward voyage,
The pilgrims make their home,
Embracing a new tongue and newer dreams,
Remaining in the flat lands.
While others, forced to return,
Wait for passage on a greater voyage and pray for tolerance at home…
Ships ferried pilgrims once to distant shores
To echo dreams of freedom down the ages;
To give, to take, to cultivate and trade, enslave, make free,
Forget the pain they left behind so many years ago.
And now, a lone memorial stands in an East Coast town
Remembering ancestral homes where newer pilgrims tread -
And still they sail on dangerous hulks to unknown shores,
Asking only welcome from the mild descendants of the men who stayed behind.
Hoping for a quiet sanctuary here, they dream
Of work and prayer and freedom in the fields of Lincolnshire.
© Lisa Marie Gabriel June 2017