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Cruise Ship

We round Cape Horn,
ahead of dawn;
gargantuan waves
bear down on plunging ship.
We stick it out on deck,
strapped to railings,
our eyes peering from woollen balaclavas
at ocean swell.

- Look Mummy!
it’s like the Ancient Mariner!
Will we see an Albatross?
I won’t kill it, Mummy,
Enrico “C” thrusts
through treacherous seas,
skirts Islas de los Estados,
heading straight for Malvinas.

Aloof, windswept isles,
low vegetation. Midsummer chill.
Puerto Argentino: Slate-tiled roofs,
sun porches, brilliant flowers.
Shipshape town on uttermost
archipelago of planet.
Hospitable family welcomes us to tea.
Youngsters thrilled about Argentina.
Girls long to escape peaty isles,
austere lives.

These images revisit me.
gazing out my window.
Sorrowful sense of Summer’s far-flung idylls.
I feel you embrace me,
dropping in when I most need you.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How does this theme appeal to you?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Malvinas = Falklands for Brits Islas de los Estados = I don't know. Puerto Argentino = Port Stanley
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Dear Jerry, first of all, are you over your eye surgery? Are you better now? I hope so.
Thank you for your comments. I lost my son Robert years after that trip. Patrick had not been born yet. The cruise was with my first husband and I don't miss him.
Yes, one misses the warm embraces and so much more. I'm bearing with widowhood from my second husband, who was a darling and cared for Patrick as if he had been his own son.
All the best to you and Lynda, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

well as always you never dissapoint, your imagery comes with a first class ticket on this cruise ship. many mant turbulent moments, i see you miss the isle, and that is who you speak with, i may be wrong but i love this anyway

strapped to railings,
our eyes peering from woollen balaclavas
at ocean swell.

your imagery is always some what genius to me but these lines just sprung out in my vision.
cant wait to hear more. xoxoxo

Thank you...Teddy

Dear Teddy, so glad you like my poem. Yes, one wore woollen balaclavas in those days! They should return to fashion, especially in our cold winters in Patagonia.
I would like to return to those extraordinary isles, but what I miss is the warm embraces of my children and the fine friends I made during the cruise. Robert died aged 21, he was with us but not Patrick, who'd not been born then.
I'm glad you like the imagery. Thanks so much for the encouragement.
Keep safe, I read that there's a surge of Covid in all of Europe and the UK. It appears that Johnson & Johnson have a promising vaccine. All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Just beautiful, thank you for telling me more.
In Italy we are still doing quite well, but now the schools are going back full time. I do feel a bit nervous, but for now, everyone is doing their bit to keep it under control. I hope you too are safe my dear gracy
I think a vaccine is still far off I heard that maybe in 2021 but who knows for sure.

Thank you...Teddy

rounding the Horn and out into the S, Atlantic. Very well done. You reference S.T. Coleridge's 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner' and the albatross. Here in the UK there is such a thing as the 'Albert Ross Society' (a students thing) who host social evenings and the like. The story goes that an undergraduate once wrote a paper on Coleridge's poem but had never read it, having only ever heard it spoken. He took 'Albatross' to be a person named Albert Ross and this caused much laughter. The society is said to have been formed from that incident. I offer you a 'Loose Sonnet' in the hope that it may make you smile today.

A Lament to Albert Ross

A mate of every sailor
Is hearty Albert Ross;
From clipper crew to whaler,
Albert is the boss.

Befriend the ancient mariner's soul
Bespoken in his rime,
Guarding him from pole to pole
And dancing steps in time.

But one who sees the whitened coat
An omen for the bad,
Must wear his carcass round his throat

Till he is sent half mad.

The crossbow bolt struck Albert's head
And left the stricken bird stone dead.
 

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Critique is a compliment
Kind regards, Alan
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Dear Alan, what you say about Albert Ross really makes me chuckle. Your "loose sonnet" is spot on. Enjoyed.
I still have my lovely (large) book of The Ancient Mariner with 42 illustrations by Gustave Doré. I used to know most of the poem by heart. The illustrations always fascinated me, as a child and even now. Most children's books came with beautiful illustrations, such as Alice in Wonderland, The Blue Bird, Tales of the Arabian Nights and so on.
Glad you enjoyed my poem, all the best and take care, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Hi Jerry, I downloaded a "shader" for my screen, from the Chrome store. My screen is now a soft beige colour. It also reminds me when to rest my eyes, blink several times or to drink water. Annoying at times! But the soft beige is wonderful. Else, you can buy those old fashioned protectors one hangs from the screen, don't know whether they are still available. I do hope the aching and bluriness goes away soon. You can also ask Lynda to post for you. All the best to both of you. Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

That's just what I was thinking, some sort of soft coloured cellophane sheet, but I'm not sure whether it would work. Do try it.
I'm really delighted with the "shader" I got from Chrome store, but few people seem to agree with me.
Anyway, I'm glad you're better and posting your high quality poetry for us to enjoy. All the best, Gracy
PD: Today I went with my daughter to a race course, not to see the races (there aren't any), but to bring back manure for our gardens. There we were, with spades, shovelling manure into bags! We walked around, took photos and made friends with a horse. Lovely Spring day, but snow and more rain is predicted, which is a good thing. Chiao!

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Dear Jerry, so glad you were able to install a shader. Makes a world of difference.
Yes, my mother always said cow dung is better, but my daughter seems to think otherwise. Never mind, it's what there is here. I don't think I can fly over to your place!
All the best to both of you, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Well, my daughter and I disagree about many things. She takes after my first husband, unfortunately. She's charming and excellent at getting past burocratic stuff, also highly creative. She makes amazing, giant kites and won a generous sum of money from the Buenos Aires "Casa de las artes" to build kites of condors and griant honey bees, that are in danger of extinction. There was going to be an exhibition, but that's off. There are at least two Utube videos about her work. It's all about raising awareness of the extinction of many Patagonian animals, birds, fish and so on.
Yes, my Mom was wise in many ways. You be good too, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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