Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in March 2012
Far Away our own special island is calling,
On sea approach it beckons to you.
On arrival charms, lures you up to the top.
There it embraces and enfolds you.
Charts show off the indented, forty-mile coast,
Two linked rough diamonds, the larger northeast,
A little island close off its west coast.
The smaller has rocks, a sea stack to its south.
From Guernsey, along the eastern horizon,
It lies - a grey form with sloping-down ends.
Recumbent whale, the sea stack its fluke.
Mist emphasizes its repose and mystery.
On the ferry approach, cotils and cliffs
Resolve into colourful, soft slopes above,
Sheer, fractured facades and gnarly rocky
Coastline below with sea caves, walled coves.
Bendy strata and serpentine balls give
Testimony of awesome ancient forces and
Events uninviting then, fascinating now.
A smudged dark line rings island and rocks.
Not endemic pollution problems, but algae
Living on the edge, at the high water mark.
Your landing has surprises - the walk from
The jetty, through tunnel cutting a headland.
The islands once uplands in a grassy plain
Roamed by aurochs and hunter man.
The in-flooding seas carved the coastline,
The wind and rain smoothed the cotils.
The coast is vertical stage-set for avian
Concerts, ballets, dramas, where birds of
The sea, coast, and cliffs perform.
Their voices welcoming your landing..
At the top is the "Avenue" Sark's village,
Venture farther to discover the jigsaw of
Fields, landscape of scattered house
Clusters, buildings, and Sark time.
Prehistory, legend, history, narrative,
Welded into the landscape, reflected in
House, courtilege, field names, making
This our own special island, calling you.
Shirley D. Carré
Acknowledgement: South Pacific by Rogers and Hammerstein.
Showing posts with label Sark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sark. Show all posts
La Coupee, Sark - Jenny Hamon
Towering cliffs rising up from the sea
Majestically mesmerising me
I stand in awe of the powerful sight
Where nature’s in charge and shows her might
A small presence am I when I stand a’top
The narrow path on the top of the rock
Dwarfed by the view of the cliffs so steep
As they descend to the water so deep
I feel quite strange, a feeling of fright
As I try to peep over, afraid of the height
My stomach churns, I cannot go near
My legs are shaking, I have to leave here
Those powerful feelings leave me in awe
Of the drivers and horses who are brave to the core
They make the journey across La Coupee
No matter what weather, day after day
To the people who live on Little Sark
This is their lifeline in daylight or dark
Living over La Coupee, they must be brave
But the Isle is idyllic and their homeland they crave.
Jenny Hamon
Majestically mesmerising me
I stand in awe of the powerful sight
Where nature’s in charge and shows her might
A small presence am I when I stand a’top
The narrow path on the top of the rock
Dwarfed by the view of the cliffs so steep
As they descend to the water so deep
I feel quite strange, a feeling of fright
As I try to peep over, afraid of the height
My stomach churns, I cannot go near
My legs are shaking, I have to leave here
Those powerful feelings leave me in awe
Of the drivers and horses who are brave to the core
They make the journey across La Coupee
No matter what weather, day after day
To the people who live on Little Sark
This is their lifeline in daylight or dark
Living over La Coupee, they must be brave
But the Isle is idyllic and their homeland they crave.
Jenny Hamon
Sark Revisited - Joan M. Ozanne
We’d walked these lanes together
when the trees were saplings,
roamed the gorse covered cliffs.
watched the sun sparkle on the sea
and the tide rise and fall,
measured on ageless rocks,
while gulls flirted with the breeze.
Remember the carriage drive together?
Candles flickering in their lamps,
lights in cottage windows,
horse’s hooves on untarred roads
disturbing the stillness of a moonlight night.
Are you remembering too?
(Dedicated to Lawrie)
Joan M. Ozanne
when the trees were saplings,
roamed the gorse covered cliffs.
watched the sun sparkle on the sea
and the tide rise and fall,
measured on ageless rocks,
while gulls flirted with the breeze.
Remember the carriage drive together?
Candles flickering in their lamps,
lights in cottage windows,
horse’s hooves on untarred roads
disturbing the stillness of a moonlight night.
Are you remembering too?
(Dedicated to Lawrie)
Joan M. Ozanne
Singularity - Wendy Maitland
This place is our place,
I can feel you in the air:
Every breath breathes you to me,
Teasingly in the way we were;
As at my feet these same stones,
Old and worn on this dry path,
Sigh and sing, calling your name.
Nothing changes.
Heat rises up as before,
Intoxicating with the smell
Of grass and dust, and us;
Our place, but not our time.
The world moves on without you,
But I am standing still.
Wendy Maitland
I can feel you in the air:
Every breath breathes you to me,
Teasingly in the way we were;
As at my feet these same stones,
Old and worn on this dry path,
Sigh and sing, calling your name.
Nothing changes.
Heat rises up as before,
Intoxicating with the smell
Of grass and dust, and us;
Our place, but not our time.
The world moves on without you,
But I am standing still.
Wendy Maitland
Bali Ha'i Sark - Shirley D. Carré
Far Away our own special island is calling,
On sea approach it beckons to you.
On arrival charms, lures you up to the top.
There it embraces and enfolds you.
Charts show off the indented, forty-mile coast,
Two linked rough diamonds, the larger northeast,
A little island close off its west coast.
The smaller has rocks, a sea stack to its south.
From Guernsey, along the eastern horizon,
It lies - a grey form with sloping-down ends.
Recumbent whale, the sea stack its fluke.
Mist emphasizes its repose and mystery.
On the ferry approach, cotils and cliffs
Resolve into colourful, soft slopes above,
Sheer, fractured facades and gnarly rocky
Coastline below with sea caves, walled coves.
Bendy strata and serpentine balls give
Testimony of awesome ancient forces and
Events uninviting then, fascinating now.
A smudged dark line rings island and rocks.
Not endemic pollution problems, but algae
Living on the edge, at the high water mark.
Your landing has surprises - the walk from
The jetty, through tunnel cutting a headland.
The islands once uplands in a grassy plain
Roamed by aurochs and hunter man.
The in-flooding seas carved the coastline,
The wind and rain smoothed the cotils.
The coast is vertical stage-set for avian
Concerts, ballets, dramas, where birds of
The sea, coast, and cliffs perform.
Their voices welcoming your landing..
At the top is the "Avenue" Sark's village,
Venture farther to discover the jigsaw of
Fields, landscape of scattered house
Clusters, buildings, and Sark time.
Prehistory, legend, history, narrative,
Welded into the landscape, reflected in
House, courtilege, field names, making
This our own special island, calling you.
Shirley D. Carré
Acknowledgement: South Pacific by Rogers and Hammerstein.
On sea approach it beckons to you.
On arrival charms, lures you up to the top.
There it embraces and enfolds you.
Charts show off the indented, forty-mile coast,
Two linked rough diamonds, the larger northeast,
A little island close off its west coast.
The smaller has rocks, a sea stack to its south.
From Guernsey, along the eastern horizon,
It lies - a grey form with sloping-down ends.
Recumbent whale, the sea stack its fluke.
Mist emphasizes its repose and mystery.
On the ferry approach, cotils and cliffs
Resolve into colourful, soft slopes above,
Sheer, fractured facades and gnarly rocky
Coastline below with sea caves, walled coves.
Bendy strata and serpentine balls give
Testimony of awesome ancient forces and
Events uninviting then, fascinating now.
A smudged dark line rings island and rocks.
Not endemic pollution problems, but algae
Living on the edge, at the high water mark.
Your landing has surprises - the walk from
The jetty, through tunnel cutting a headland.
The islands once uplands in a grassy plain
Roamed by aurochs and hunter man.
The in-flooding seas carved the coastline,
The wind and rain smoothed the cotils.
The coast is vertical stage-set for avian
Concerts, ballets, dramas, where birds of
The sea, coast, and cliffs perform.
Their voices welcoming your landing..
At the top is the "Avenue" Sark's village,
Venture farther to discover the jigsaw of
Fields, landscape of scattered house
Clusters, buildings, and Sark time.
Prehistory, legend, history, narrative,
Welded into the landscape, reflected in
House, courtilege, field names, making
This our own special island, calling you.
Shirley D. Carré
Acknowledgement: South Pacific by Rogers and Hammerstein.
Summer Night Garden - Wendy Maitland
Pale as pearl the garden stands,
Dazed to silence in the phantom light,
Breathless in the spell of summer night.
Dark beyond the arch those shadows wait:
No leaf or petal stirs, no bird awakes.
The heavy-headed blossoms drowse,
Their scent extravagant upon the faded air;
A sudden flurry of the Pipistrelles
Swoops and darts, into the waiting shadow,
Beyond the darkening arch.
Wendy Maitland
Dazed to silence in the phantom light,
Breathless in the spell of summer night.
Dark beyond the arch those shadows wait:
No leaf or petal stirs, no bird awakes.
The heavy-headed blossoms drowse,
Their scent extravagant upon the faded air;
A sudden flurry of the Pipistrelles
Swoops and darts, into the waiting shadow,
Beyond the darkening arch.
Wendy Maitland
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