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Author Archives: jedwardnajera
The Tempest
Lo an’ weep, for despair has set upon our sails. Th’ deepest shades below th’ wine-red sea Are cast upon our brow. Th’ men of sorrows with their Weathered faces before th’ wind, Beneath the clouds blackened by the Furies … Continue reading
The Water’s Edge
Th’ tide hast cometh at last and spreads into th’ harbour. Now breech th’ tidal floor an’ Weigheth th’ anch’r stone, Yon caravel hast been ballast’d Maketh free below th’ wat’r line An’ free thee from its sand‘s Kiss th’ … Continue reading
Th’ Great Brim Waters
Tis a lo’esome soun’ Th’ weary lugs fall asleep tae Tha’ howling whispering o’ win` Tha’ turns th’ minutes intae hours, Tha’ frothing of th’ silen’ wake, Underneath th’ field o’ stars, Frae sky tae sky, through sun an’ moonly … Continue reading
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This Day Will Have Its Feast
Whe’ all is meditations above th’ foamy, horizon tae horizon A month o’ days since th’ sight o’ lan’ befo’ th’ mast, an’ taken by th’ whispering wake, beneath th’ stellar glimmerings, o’ beneath th’ lunar orb, an’ below th’ … Continue reading
The Master of Men
She’s afloat, her sails grasping a’ handfuls o’ th’ win’ Her bow splits th’ distant waters like a cauld steely blade. Deep in th’ hold she is a groanin’, groanin’ fer th’ quiet urges of th’ inland waves. The … Continue reading
May 9, 1502
Tis th’ moment, th’ sound o’ th’ anchor risin,’ Th’ smel o’ soil soon tae be but a mem’ry, Th’ winds a fillin’ th’ sheets, an’ th’ great meestery o’ darkness, Nae a star tae follow, Th’ sky indeed covers … Continue reading
The Stores
Mak ready, coil th’ lines Set your stores ablow. fair th’ hulls load th’ tuns an’ th’ flagons stow th’ oakum An’ blacken th’ sides wi’ pitch Mak ready for th’ roll o’ th’ sea . . . Th’ sirens … Continue reading
Sanctuary on the Via de Santiago
Whe’ wrathful blows th’ foamy An’ th’ win` cuts tae th’ marrow An’ th’ clouds drap doon thair ire wi’ a mighty fis’ and breath, Come seek for th’ sheltering bosom ‘yon th’ rancorus tunder. A place called home it … Continue reading
Palos
City o’ th’ west Maker o’ widows Mater o’ orphans releaser o’ sorrows City o’ woes thou art nah home tah me City o’ th’ west Gatherer o’ th’ lost Gateway tah th’ abyss Tah th’ yawning jaws o’ Bleak … Continue reading
The Portage
Ye can smell th’ fresh new season; ‘Tis in th’ air and in th’ moist turned brou. ‘Tis found in th’ wattles and In th’ lapping o’ waves In th’ green hills ‘an’ in th’ Purple lupins that blesses th’ … Continue reading
