16 Thursday Jun 2016
Posted in Denny's Diary, Poetry
As the sea moves endlessly, restlessly on so do the poems that try so hard to capture the essence of this mighty element. Here is one by Walter de la Mare:
Echoes
The sea laments
The livelong day,
Fringing its waste of sand;
Cries back the wind from the whispering shore-
No words I understand:
Yet echoes in my heart a voice,
As far, as near, as these-
The wind that weeps,
The solemn surge
Of strange and lonely seas.
Very best wishes – Denny Bradbury
28 Thursday Jan 2016
Posted in Denny's Diary, Poetry
Whilst sitting overlooking the sea at Lyme Regis (one of the best places on England’s south coast) I composed some verses. They will form part of a larger work all based on sea experiences. Returning home I picked up this poem by Robert Frost – to me one of the most insightful of poets. It all goes to show there are few new ideas in the world just different ways of expressing them. Although I am not sure he felt about the sea as I do!
Neither Out Far Nor In Deep – Robert Frost
The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day.
As long as it takes to pass
A ship keeps raising its hull;
The wetter ground like glass
Reflects a standing gull.
The land may vary more;
But whatever the truth may be-
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea.
They cannot look out far.
They cannot look in deep.
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep.
Introspection at the Seaside – Denny Bradbury
Two ladies of advancing years
stopped to say ‘hello’
pass the time and talk of things
they knew of long ago.
The sea was calm, the sun was out
but t’was January cold
then they tottered on their way
somehow not so old.
I sat staring out to sea
bounded by the distant cliff
when a blackbird sang to me
his company too brief.
Thanking him I went to sit
beside the winter shore,
I thought on sea and sky and wind
introspection at my core.
Best wishes – Denny Bradbury
21 Friday Aug 2015
Posted in Denny's Diary, Poetry
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As a child I was told that the sea is powerful beyond human imagining and that any one who thought they could tame the sea would be subsumed by it. Lord Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage has a wonderful expression of such power. Here is a glimpse:
From Childe Harold by Lord Byron
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean – roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin – his control
Stops with the shore; – upon thy watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He winks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelle’d, uncoffin’d, and unknown.
Very best wishes – Denny Bradbury
22 Friday May 2015
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The gift of a poetry book is the gift that just keeps on giving. I love to browse and find hidden gems. This is from my book of sea poems. The poem called ‘Atlantis’ is by Conrad Aiken, three of the middle verses are very poignant:
From Atlantis by Conrad Aiken
Long ago it sunk in the sea;
And now a thousand fathoms deep,
Sea-worms above it whirl their lamps,
Crabs on the pale mosaic creep.
Voyagers over that haunted sea
Hear from the waters under the keel
A sound that is not wave or foam;
Nor do they only hear, but feel
The timbers quiver, as eerily comes
Up from the dark an elfin singing
Of voices happy as none can be,
And bells an ethereal anthem ringing.
Very best wishes – Denny Bradbury
30 Monday Mar 2015
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Carrying on from my last blog on sea poems. This one resonated with me, (actually nearly all of them do as the sea is in my bones) Emily is with her dog at the beginning of the poem.
I started early, took my dog,
and visited the sea –
The Mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me.
And Frigates in the upper floor
Extended hempen hands –
Presuming me to be a mouse
Aground upon the sands.
But no man moved me till the Tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt
And past my bodice too –
And made as he would eat me up
As wholly as a dew
Upon a dandelion’s sleeve –
And then I started too.
And he – he followed close behind –
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle – then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.
Until we met the solid town,
No man he seemed to know –
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the Sea withdrew.
Emily Dickinson
I would love to have spoken with her about this and discussed her imagery. On second thoughts, perhaps it is better to leave the mystery and just enjoy her poetry.
Very best wishes – Denny Bradbury
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