Friday 27 April 2018


I  don't know why this poem has lingered in the shadows for as long as it has. I wrote it after going to Lisbon last year and it lay in the pages of a notebook for far too long. Always a good idea to check through notebooks on a weekly basis.


Once more
the water called to him
to renew their pact;
a life on the ocean,
beyond the horizon,
past the smudge of land and dust.

It was a repeating dream:
The Lisbon waterfront,
early in the dawn,
he walks to the cathedral,
gives thanks for his son’s birth
after the great earthquake.

If he does not heed the salt water’s song
he will not visit that city
until he is past thirty.
Catching first sight of the cathedral,
an echo, nothing more,
soon replaced by stone and mortar.

Few of us make the right choice.
I make reference to the Great Earthquake of 1755. At this moment in time I am not sure the poem needs it but I wanted to emphasise the idea of reincarnation. Though this may be served well enough in the first stanza.
The idea for the poem came from the notion that perhaps some contracts/relationships stretch over several life times.
Sadly I missed Brooke Sharkey on Saturday when she played Exeter. Here's a video as recompense.
Until next time.

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