Close to the Edge

My father was a sailor

He was always off the shore,

And I’d watch his sailboat ‘Ransom’

As it gaff-rigged past our door,

And he told me - ‘When you’re old enough

I’ll show you where they dwell,

The mermaids, with their necklaces,

Made out of cockleshells!

 

Then out on the verandah

He would stare straight out to sea,

Where the sun meets the horizon

Then he’d sit me on his knee,

And he’d tell me tales of Morgan,

Tales of Captain Kidd and Co.,

When they roamed the Caribbean

In the days of long ago.

 

He would sail out in the summer,

He would sail out in the fall,

He would sail to the horizon

In the mist, and through a squall,

And he always took his bo’sun

‘Shifty’ Dick, who trimmed the sail,

Drank the ‘Ransom’ dry of whiskey,

Lashed his wrist, hard to the rail.

 

Then one winter, storm capped waters

Beat unceasing on our shore,

And my mother lit the lantern

Kept a vigil by the door.

But the ‘Ransom’ kept its secrets

Never came to shore again,

And my father joined the history

Of all seafaring men!

 

I grew and took my lessons

In a little trailer-sail,

When my mother wasn’t watching;

She would cry, and she would wail:

‘Don’t you ever let me catch you,

Staring, looking out to sea,

It’s enough I lost your father…’

‘Never fret! You won’t lose me!’

 

For years I watched them leaving,

All the magic sailing boats,

Some were worth a clear million,

While some could barely float!

I watched as they sailed out, and then

I watched on their return,

But some were lost forever,

Sunk - Exploded - Overturned!

 

I bought a gaff-rigged schooner,

It had seen far better days,

But I patched it and I painted it,

I called it the ‘Sea Haze’;

I took it out with friends -

We didn’t venture out too far -

But learnt to jib, and trim the sail,

To run along the shore!

 

Then finally I headed out

To where it all began,

Beyond the far horizon

Where the ‘Ransom’ cut and ran,

The clouds began to gather

And the shades began to steal,

The waves broke on the forward deck

And I clung to the wheel.

 

The storm clouds that had gathered

Opened up and thundered rain,

It beat upon the masthead, and it

Lashed the sagging main,

It soaked my tiny cabin and it

Churned the heaving sea,

The waves on the horizon

Lay in wait out there, for me!

 

I sailed right through some warp of space

Or time, or so it seemed,

For then it was I caught a sight

Out there - a Quinquereme!

The rows of oars were stilled, I saw,

But some unholy moan,

Broke through the madness of the storm

And chilled me to the bone!

 

And then I saw a Galleass,

And then I saw a tramp,

To port there was a Brigantine

To starboard there, a lamp!

A single lamp to light the way

I took my bearings then,

No sign of a horizon there,

I sailed toward the end!

 

The sea, it fell away just there

And all I saw was space,

The ancients said the earth was flat,

My heart began to race.

A thousand ships lay still out there

A Cruiser, Barque, a Dredge!

They’d sailed in space there since the day

They sailed right off the edge!

 

The ‘Sea Haze’ raced along a line

Just inches from dismay,

I turned the wheel to head back home,

To live another day,

And then I saw the ‘Ransom’ turning

Slowly in the sky,

While ‘Shifty’ Dick, still tethered,

Floated wide and still and dry!

 

The ‘Sea Haze’ sits at anchor still

Just out from my back door,

She sank a dozen years ago,

Sat down, hard on the shore.

I never stare out at the sea,

The sea I thought I knew,

For who’d believe the earth was flat?

That’s right! - Not even you!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Lena M. P.]

The call of the sea is a powerful siren and no woman can compete to one who hears the song. Not wife, not mother not girl can hold their own to the beauty and lure of the calling. But the sea is a fickle mistress and her temper harsh to those who fail to respect and fear her. He was lucky to have lived to tell the tale. Excellent feel with the drama only you can add.

[tynamite]

I like how imaginative this is. The storytelling sounds mystical.

[roarke]

FANTASTIC! I'm beginning to notice something about your writing, you don't rely on using metaphor and simile with in your poetic lines to create your images and story, no- nothing so simple as that. You Mr. Paget, rather use nature and life and reality to show the artistry and creative scope in your work. It's writing on a grand scale, Herculean adventure from the REAL whole cloth. For this awareness, my scribbles have gone from crayon back to finger paint.... but I'm learning, from the master.
again, fantastic.

[Dayran]

The loss of a father and in the search for questions on life and death, where what's normal may also change. Its challenging enough staying at home. Nice write!

[cartera]

Narrative poetry gets a raw deal nowadays. This is a rollicking good tale, well told. Last line, mmm; only line that I hesitate over.
Good stuff.
ATB
Alex.

[SR Urie]

Mister Paget,

Superb nautical dream you've woven for a sailor stuck on the shore remembering all his own sunken ships. Rhythm and rhyme flows a little erratically, like the undercurrents of a jetty near shoal water, yet your message is close hauled into the wind with superb meaning and symbolism. Excellent work, as usual sir. BZ

[Kenneth The Poet]

A master of the rhyming craft.

[Alessander]

very technically refined, which is very rare now a days.

I won't bother with the minutia of scanning or the abcbdefe...format since I can tell you've mastered all that well.

When I was reading this, my mind just kept wondering back to "The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner"...It has the same story telling and supernatural qualities of that piece, albeit this poem is a little less macabre.

For a longer poem, it was really rather easy to get though, mainly do to the good use of meter and rhyme which are tools to make longer works more manageable (hence why most Epics are in either).

I really like your diction too. You choose words carefully which work both on a literal and figurative level, like "Sea Haze" and "Horizon". And the intertwining of nautical language really set the tone and sold me on the speaker's authenticity. (Shades of Billy Budd).

My only real critique would be the ending. Can't quite put my finger on it, but it felt a bit anti-climatic. Specifically, the last two lines. I understand the logic of the flat earth linking back with "close to the edge" and it's metaphorical implications, but for some reason, it broke the spell. Maybe the sudden introduction of "you" or even the casualness of "That's right!"...don't know exactly...

But that's just minor issue. Overall, I really enjoyed this. Like I said, it's hard to come across metrical pieces on here that aren't horrible imitations of Poe.

Thanks for posting this. Look forward to reading more.

[Poeticpiers]

As usual my friend a masterly piece of story tellin Ivor

[The Analog Kid]

Your writing is so true to all things nautical. Beautiful rhyming and story telling.

[Raven Starhawk]

Your poems are so exquisitely detailed. I cannot begin to emulate their rich depths.