We Must Sail...

Apparently, I'm not the only one who has sea-fever...

“I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving - we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it - but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.” 
― Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

Pirate Dreams

Needles and pins, Needles and pins,
Sew me a sail to catch me the wind.
Sew me a sail strong as the gale,
Carpenter, bring out your hammers and nails.
Hammers and nails, hammers and nails,
Build me a boat to go chasing the whales.
Chasing the whales, sailing the blue
Find me a captain and sign me a crew.
Captain and crew, captain and crew,
Take me, oh take me to anywhere new.

― Shel Silverstein

Lines

I die but when the grave shall press
The heart so long endeared to thee
When earthy cares no more distress
And earthy joys are nought to me.

Weep not, but think that I have past

Before thee o'er the sea of gloom.

Have anchored safe and rest at last

Where tears and mouring can not come.

'Tis I should weep to leave thee here

On that dark ocean sailing drear

With storms around and fears before

And no kind light to point the shore.

But long or short though life may be

'Tis nothing to eternity.

We part below to meet on high

Where blissful ages never die.

― Emily Brontë

Bilbo’s Last Song

Day is ended, dim my eyes,
But journey long before me lies.
Farewell, friends! I hear the call.
The ship's beside the stony wall.
Foam is white and waves are grey;
Beyond the sunset leads my way.
Foam is salt, the wind is free;
I hear the rising of the Sea.

Farewell, friends! The sails are set,

The wind is east, the moorings fret.

Shadows long before me lie,

Beneath the ever-bending sky,

But islands lie behind the Sun

That I shall raise ere all is done;

Lands there are to west of West,

Where night is quiet and sleep is rest.

Guided by the Lonely Star,

Beyond the utmost harbour-bar,

I’ll find the heavens fair and free,

And beaches of the Starlit Sea.

Ship, my ship! I seek the West,

And fields and mountains ever blest.

Farewell to Middle-earth at last.

I see the Star above my mast!

― J.R.R. Tolkien

Across Such Stormy Waters

Across a pool of liquid glass

I know my sailor sails the sea

He, my man, and I, his lass,

I wait for him to come to me

Across a pool of liquid glass.

Across that distant rolling dune

I know my sailor thinks of me

His briny heart, it sings the tune

Of our distant lover's-song

Across that distant rolling dune.

Across a mirror of shining sun

I know my sailor feels the chill

Regardless of the Warming One,

There's a tempest, cold and shrill

Across a mirror of shining sun.

Across the waves of ocean

My heart pines for my man

His ship, forever in motion,

Leaves me far away on land

Across the waves of ocean. 

Across such stormy waters

My heart shall brave the gale.

The only children left are daughters;

The race of sailors soon will fail

Across such stormy waters.

Across a pool of liquid glass

I know my sailor thinks of me

He, my man, and I, his lass,

I wait for him to come to me

Across a pool of liquid glass.

A Ship

A Ship

Original Poem by Janelle Spiers

A ship is a rollicking, wild phantom,

Soaring across the waving seas.

A ship is a wild, flying bird

To take us where we please.

The ship is a carpet of fairy dust,

Magic and wholly untrue.

Sweet ships are a kiss upon the lips

As they bring me home to you.

Where are the sails and briny oars?

Show me the rigging and sandy shores --

Dip me a flagon of ocean chill

And the rolling waves that can't keep still.

Hand me adventure and splintered wood

And all that's wet, and salty, and good.

A ship is a conquistador of old,

Driving heavily through the rain.

A ship is a princess who catches my eye

And carries away all of my pain.

The ship is a secret treasure,

Buried beneath the yards of sail.

The ship is Lord of the Sea,

King of fish and mighty whale.

Where is the creak of rolling madness?

Show me the sails of departing sadness --

Dip me a flagon of salty sea,

And the rolling waves that call to me.

Hand me freedom and coiled ropes

And all that's bright with salty hopes.

A History Lesson

A History Lesson

Janelle Spiers

A man huddled over his desk, scribbling away at a dark piece of parchment.  The paper was wet with black ink and the room smelled of it.  Eventually, he sat back and crossed his arms, reading over the words he had written.  He nodded knowingly and took up his pen again, dipping it in the inkwell. 

At that moment, the door creaked open softly and a small head poked inside.  The man looked up at his son and smiled.  "Come in, son."

"Sorry, Dad.  I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to see how the story is going."  The boy closed the door quietly behind him and hurried over to where his father sat writing.  

“Ah, well, it’s tiring work.  You see, son, the problem is that none of these little people do what I want them to do.  I created them with a willful mindset, and they sure are stubborn.” He said, rumpling his son’s dark hair.

“Why don’t you just make them behave?  Can’t you just tell them what to do?”  The boy asked with a hopeful gaze as he looked over the neatly formed letters.

“No, son, I cannot do that, for that’s not how I intended my little people to act.  I give them all a choice.  I will not force them to do anything against their will, although I try to remind them the right way.”

“Who are you writing about now?”  The boy asked, climbing up into his father’s lap. 

“Noah,” the man answered, taking up his pen again. “He’s still on the boat that he built and all the animals are getting restless. His wife has been grumbling and his sons are starting to get agitated with each other.”

“Dad, how much longer will you leave him on the boat?  Hasn’t he been on it for a long time?”

“Well, the rain has stopped already, but all that water has to go somewhere, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, dad, but…”

“What is it, son?”  The man asked, resting his chin on the boy’s head.

“I just don’t want Noah to sin because of his family.  He’s got to make a good new start to the world, right?  Can’t you help him, somehow?”

“What would you suggest?”

“I think you ought to send Patience to help him.  She could help him to be gentle with his grumbling wife and his grumpy sons.”

“That is a wonderful idea, son.  Here, you write it.”  The man handed his son the quill pen, fresh with dark ink.  The boy set the pen to the page and began to write in big, bold writing.  The man smiled as he read the boy’s words spread out across the parchment.

After a few silent minutes, the boy said, “How’s that, Dad?”

“It is good, son. Very good.”

The boy scrambled out of the man’s lap and looked up into his father’s face.  “I think Noah will do the right things, Dad.  He will behave.”

“I hope so, son.”

The boy ran out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving his father alone with his pen and his thoughts.  He bent back over the page and smiled at his son’s writing compared to his own; they were exactly the same.  The father read over his work again, took up his pen, and began again to write...

The Taming of the Ocean

The Taming of the Ocean

Janelle Spiers

There's a creaking, groaning monster     

And I stand upon it's back                      

Forcing it to take me where I please.      

It's a rolling, bucking beast                    

But l'll make her take me east;                         

Away I'll sail into the salty breeze.        

The ocean is a briny grave                     

For those who misconstrue her;             

She'll open up fierce frigid jaws,                

Gnashing teeth will eat you whole         

Drowning your body and your soul        

And you will be a thing that was.           

Salt water flows within the veins

Of them who brave the breakers,

Those who bathe in sea foam.

It takes a lot of seasick guts,

Brackish water to wash your cuts

And lightning storms to lead you home.

My ship will charge the surges,

My sails will hail the shores,

The riggings are my salty net

To catch a wild, racing swell

And I will rise, my strength shall quell

And all the sea shall know my threat.

And once I anchor in safe harbor

And let my white sails down,

My things will always bear the scent

Of sea-salt, brine, and wood.

Ne'er, howe'er, could I stay for good;

Unless on the sea will I be content.

Reflections

Reflections

Janelle Spiers

The water ripples silently

Like all my thoughts combined,

I listen for the creak of oars;

Such sound I cannot find.

You’ve been away too long, My Love,

Why must you go so far?

My heart has never been my own,

For it goes where you are.

Come home to me and stay awhile,

Come bring me back my heart.

The water calls, it beckons you,

But the sea tears us apart.

I watch the wind raise up a storm,

And hope that you are well.

The gales are fast and blowing strong,

Sail home on swifter swell.

You’ve been away too long, Brave Heart,

When will you come this way?

My eyes watch ever searchingly,

In dark of night and day.

The sun reflects my straying heart;

Travelling the ocean wide.

I wait for you, and think of you,

Sail home on the next tide.

Come home to me and stay awhile,

Come bring me back my heart.

The water calls, it beckons you,

But the sea tears us apart.