Poetry

Titanic

Mighty ships that go down to the sea
Titanic, magnificent she would be
Bedecked, adorned and opulent
No limit on the money spent
She began her voyage, maiden
With passengers and crew heavily laden
The upper class on higher floor,
Steerage for the unfortunate poor
From Southampton’s southern Port
A magnificent sight, everyone thought
The pride of England’s White Star Line
A nation’s glory, magnificent and fine
Into Atlantic’s murky waters she sailed
To fanfare, and with decks regaled
All excited at the history-making
And of which everyone was partaking
Alas, it was the owner’s need for greed
That Titanic’s captain pushed for speed
Into the darkest, freezing night
She gallantly steamed on, a ghostly sight
Then eventually, the worst occurred
The lookout’s anguished voice was heard
“Avast there! Icebergs ahead”
But merriment and music went on instead
“This beautiful ship cannot sink,”
The Master said, and all would think
The lookout’s words were wrong
And all aboard continued with wine and song
Then, suddenly, the ship was shaken
The lookout above was not mistaken
A massive berg loomed up ahead
The sight filled everyone with dread
As Titanic’s plates of steel were rent
And so began the worst sea event
Freezing water gushed through the holes
Trapping many of the poorer souls
Their accommodation lower down
Flooded quickly and many would drown.
In the upper decks there was confusion
Now no one was under the illusion
The ship was safe and would not flounder
And the captain knew he could not save her
“Abandon ship!”The order was stated
Amid screams of those who could not be placated
The boats were lowered as the ship submersed
The call went out -”Women and children first”
Others ignored the captain’s command
Among them was the Titanic s band
They stayed, to end their days in watery graves
As the ship finally slid beneath the waves
Their final tones, as they disappeared into the sea
Hauntingly, were, “Nearer My God to Thee.”

Beautiful as usual, Harry!  Hope you're feelin good today.

Ruth

PS - great video too!

Thank you Ruth.  Actually I was challenged to write the poem as though I were a tree; but I think you guessed that 

I'm feeling a little better today. As much as I am looking forward to our holiday overseas, I can't wait to begin treatment in October.

Regards,

 Harry

Now, as 'they' say, for something different

 Zombie


One hand hangs loose
On breast, the other
Stumbling, slowly jerking
Forward
Sightless, now with arm extended
Approaching fearless, fearsome
Image
Closer, closer it approaches
Soundless, bloodless, no substance
Risen
From the grave
No mound disturbed -
In horror the watcher stands
Unbelieving
Upon his own small sod.


Dawn's approximation
Silently from beyond -
Will the apparition
Continue forward to
dismay?
Nay - the sun is fast arising
No humans will alone
Defend against the evil
Of the grave, but God's
Creation of solar rays
The towering meaningless
Dissuade
And to the Earth from whence it came
Return, and stay
Until the eventide next day

This

The Sinking of HMS Hood, 24th. May 1941


Forty-thousand tons of German steel
From the top of her mast to solid keel
Bismarck, crewed by two thousand plus
From Hamburg shipyard she sailed thus
In May of nineteen-forty-one
Into the Baltic ‘neath hidden sun
She sailed full speed with silent gun
Heading north into the shipping zone
Silently she slid, darkened, and alone
Meanwhile, on secret information
British battle-cruisers traced her location
At 6.am the following day
A naval battle was under way
HMS Hood, was in the van
As the fiercest battle then began
Bismarck, turned and opened fire
For the ‘Hood’, the result was dire
A direct hit upon her stern,
As from history, we would learn
Crippled the pride of the British fleet
But for the German’s, a successful feat
The magazine took a direct hit
And flames and smoke arose from it
The bow of the Hood rose from the sea
As if to God to make a plea
And cherish each unfortunate soul
Who soon, His Highness they’d extol
The ‘Hood’ then slid beneath turbulent waves
Taking all but three brave sailors to their graves

 This poem may strike a chord for those familiar with the sea battles of WWII.