POEM TITLE Blackness on Sea
POEM Blackness on Sea.
From River Forth the world was open,
For men to travel on the Ocean.
The blackened rocks on which it stood,
Blackness on Sea cried solitude.
With castled ship for all to see,
It called to all ' return to me '.
And now my three score years and ten,
Have urged me to take up my pen.
I was not born to village life,
But hustle, bustle, daily strife.
A stranded Mariner from the west,
At times my patience put to test.
Castaway without a shore,
To find a beach that was no more.
Departed tides had not returned,
Yet still a spark in me still burned.
So first I travelled to the east,
On shoreline there my eyes did feast.
My life's been touched upon that shore,
As generations have before.
When first I dreamed there as a child,
Like all before me so beguiled.
Has this view changed or is it me?
Where one bridge stood, there now stands three.
One thing that o’er the years I've learned,
As child and parent, I've returned.
As both my parents had before,
To find what Blackness had in store.
And now my son does walk this way,
To watch the boats out in the bay.
His children and his own sweet dog,
In sunshine, rain or haary fog.
In years gone by a bustling port, who,
Served Linlithgow’s wealthy few.
Who at their whim and fancy say,
Prosperity was snatched away.
No tall ships sail to ply their trade,
Bo'ness caste Blackness in its shade.
Now coasters, tankers, slide on past,
Just pleasure craft with shallow draft.
From ancient castle's craggy bow,
I knew not then what I know now.
The troubled times that all have gone,
These walls re main and will still stand on.
Napoleon’s men incarcerated,
This prison cell they must have hated.
These walls have stories they could tell,
From in or out a living hell.
As child I played upon that sand,
My children both, since took my hand.
To walk and run and memories make,
Good times I hope we don't forsake.
Adventures we all do remember,
Although time fades there's still an ember.
A favoured place it came to be,
When my first dog walked there with me.
My yearning for a life at sea,
Was stifled, simply not to be.
A member of that happy band,
With Blackness Boat Club I did stand.
I gazed upon my various craft,
We shared good times and sailed and laughed.
I'm glad to say I was proud to be,
A 'mariner' who had found the sea.
Of village life I know not much,
Only few receive the Blackness Touch.
The pressures of my daily life,
The world with all its war and strife.
This sense of overwhelming wrath,
Except, that when I tread this path.
A quietness still descends on me,
The place where I'm at peace to be.
At village heart the inn once stood,
Dispensing drinks and tasty food.
Now stands The Lobster Pot of life,
Its purpose to relieve the strife.
Like life itself it is renewed,
And in the future will be viewed.
The heart and soul at centre still,
Will find a way if there's a will.
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