Category Archives: poetry

Anodyne

Near th’ gairdens o’ guid an’ evil, Near th’ open plains o’ myth an’ legend, By th’ shadowed glen o’ breath an’ sleep, Lay th’ foot falls o’ the mystic seek. Thare be wickedness in th’ wind, in th’ clouds … Continue reading

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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 th’ clouds blackened by th’ Furies … Continue reading

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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