I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

24 September 2017

My Boat Song

Once was a boat that was called after me,
named as the Mary Rose,
tiny but strong to fish in the sea.
How the wind blows, who knows?

Once I was small, lived on an isle;
Dad called me Mary Rose –
his special name, making me smile.
Who knows what stays, what goes?

When I grew up, then I could see
feet made of clay, not gold.
Gone was my god, gone from that day –
old stories long grown cold.

Jack was my new step-father who
never usurped that name,
yet built a boat, showing me true
new ways that love became.

Once was a boat that was called after me,
named as the Mary Rose,
tiny but strong to fish in the sea.
How the wind blows, who knows?


And no, you are NOT allowed to call me Mary Rose! Seriously. The only other person who did was my favourite uncle, Tommy, who died in his nineties a few years back and who doesn't belong in this poem. It's a special name, not for general use, not even by best friends, lovers or husbands.















(I don't have a photo of the Mary Rose but she was something like this, with a pointier bow. This is from the Antique Boat Centre. As the image is marked as available to be saved, I am assuming Public Domain.)


At 'imaginary garden with real toads' Kim's weekend mini challenge is Boats, and she quotes many people's favourite boat song – certainly mine – The Skye Boat Song. Check out the link to find more boat poems.

I grew up on an island, often 'messing about in boats', and was later married for 27 years to a professional fisherman, so had many possibilities to write about ... but perhaps we all have one boat that is more special than others.

11 comments:

  1. The name of a boat is so special and to be that person is a special sign.. I think this poem should be sung,

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    Replies
    1. Well, I did copy the metre of Skye Boat song exactly! (Smile.)

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  2. Wonderful, Rosemary. I love your father's special name for you.

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  3. What an honour, to have a boat named after you, Rosemary - and your dad's special name for you, too!
    I can feel the sadness in the stanza:
    'When I grew up, then I could see
    feet made of clay, not gold.
    Gone was my god, gone from that day –
    old stories long grown cold'.

    There is also strength in the lines:
    '...built a boat, showing me true
    new ways that love became'.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Kim. I hope I made it clear enough that, although my stepfather never addressed me by my Dad's pet name for me, which would have been presumptuous, he gave it to the boat he built. (My Dad didn't build boats.)

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  4. A story of love and of life all wrapped up in a wee boat.Beautiful.

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  5. Well, since I can't call you Mary Rose, I will just have to call you Sexy.

    By the way, I think it's very curious that my father calls me Magaly MarĂ­a.

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    Replies
    1. Happy to be called Sexy. Thank you.

      Magaly Maria is very musical!

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  6. thank you for this enchanting poem. What a lovely gift/message.

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  7. Oh Rosemary this is so touching and lovely! Thank you for your kind words over at my blog.

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  8. It is a special feeling to have boat named after you. I actually read the poem as sing song way

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