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Ode To a Warship
Contributed by
gmcse8
on
Wednesday, 7th January 2009 @ 12:02:41 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Sunrise, all hands on deck; she is berthed starboard side to,
forward and up starboard, down and aft port, a well trained crew.
Zoo forward, ready; pelican, elephant, wildcat, jackass, rat’s tail.
1mc crackling calling all hands to setting the Special Sea Detail.
As we single up excitement and sadness fight for supremacy,
excited to ship out, but already missing the lands legacy.
adventures await, family and friends bravely wave, children wail.
Single up, then take in one, three, four, five and six, two to spring,
the engines thrum through the deck, from the pier she swings.
Right full rudder, engines back slow, Bull Ensign with the con.
Take in two, ahead standard, from the land her freedom won,
Out through the channel, smelling the salt on the air now,
in her element, bow rises thru rollers she starts to plow.
Staring back at land, missing it already, a sea tour has begun.
Alive now, 6000 tons, cutting the waves, shaking her head;
constant companion, her men to this warship are wed,
Salt spray, wind in the hair, constant vibration of the engines;
watches set, hatches dogged, main deck the boatswains.
day at sea, all hands turn to, Doc is starting a Binnacle List.
Pitch, and roll, on the bridge wing, as the spray by me hissed.
Deeper into the briny we steer, due east the course we maintain
A modern warship, fast, 21st century crew, armed to the teeth,
Nimitz, Farragut, Jones would understand what is beneath.
They would know what happens in her each and every day.
ships not wood anymore, but the routine and traditions stay,
for those who go down to the sea in ships, and forsake the land,
into harm’s way for the freedoms we enjoy they take a stand.
Always ready, ready to give all, their shipmates not to betray.
Language of the sea, a thing of mystery a sailor must decipher,
parts of language he must master, if he wants to be a lifer.
Abaft, box a compass, holystone, knee knocker, and dog watch,
For warships are nations with languages, and customs to match.
No matter what, greyhound, bird farm, gator, or bubble head sub,
for those who serve in them all, they belong to an exclusive club.
Always ready fight or storm, load the guns, batten down the hatch.
All the months of sea have their rewards and compensations,
myself visited more than a hundred other nations.
Beauty of seas does surround, life long bonds with shipmates.
But slowly sailors all begin to dream of being back in the States.
She gives excitement, action, the smell of gun smoke,
but yearning for family life, seeing Two Charlie does provoke.
After six months nothing is more exciting than what awaits.
home
Copyright ©
gmcse8
... [
2009-01-07 12:02:41]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Ode To a Warship
(User Rating: 1 )
by elle on
Wednesday, 7th January 2009 @ 05:00:08 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
| excellent. I love this all the way through. even though I had three uncles, lifers in the Navy, I do not understand much of the lingo. still this only atests to the quality of your verse. I loved it regardless of total comprehension. also thank you, from my heart, for helping keep us safe. the ending is superb. peace. elle |
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Re: Ode To a Warship
(User Rating: 1 )
by Incognito_Bombastus on
Wednesday, 7th January 2009 @ 11:00:03 PM AEST
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| Thank you. I think Melville , Shelley, Keats or Coleridge would understand too. I never made it to a Stella Maris but dream in Conradian images of that which you bespeak. |
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