Down to the Sea Again…

People ask if I miss Ireland
but I can travel there anytime
in my mind’s eye
standing on the rocky ledges
three hundred and fifty million years old
as gentle swells roll in from the West
smoothly curved as a reclining breast
no more than eighteen inches high
rising to just below my feet
it looks gentle but one
slightly higher wave
spilling onto the ledge
would take the feet from under me
pluck me into the water
the high tide daring me
to stand so close to the edge
I guess six tons of water
moves within six feet of me
six feet deep and a few million years
of fossil coral reef beneath me
slowly etching back into the world
with every passing swell

I set up my rod and cast
whose first retrieve
snags a bunch of seaweed
with a Pipe Fish
– a straightened cousin
of the Seahorse curling its
tail to cling amongst the fronds
the pollock are running
and I cast my heavy silver Toby again
splashing into the glassy Atlantic water
so clear I can see the bottom
slowly retrieve, pausing, simulating
the rise and fall of a weary baitfish
my lure is about to break the surface
when the Pollock strikes
turning in a thrilling
savage flash of silver
right before me.

I walk my haul back along the ledges
past the place I met the otter
– playing hide and seek
with matching curiosity
for a full twenty minutes
after he slipped into the water
and dived only to resurface
elsewhere to spy on me repeatedly
– until I turned the tables
to crouch out of sight of him
making him the seeker…

Past the lime kiln
dug into the low boulder-clay cliff
now half exposed revealing its
bottle shape – lined with
fire-proof granite boulders
gleaned from its digging out
when was it built and how many
houses did its quicklime mortar
build in turn – perhaps ours…

I file these memories
of sparkling swells
in the most special room
of my Memory Palace
to be visited on dull days
far from the sea
or maybe set down in verse…

© Andrew Wilson, 2024

Over at dVerse Poets Pub,  lillian in Poetics asks us to write to a line from the Mitch Miller song “By the Beautiful Sea

23 thoughts on “Down to the Sea Again…

  • September 11, 2024 at 10:39 am
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    a bucket full to the brim with memories – rich and vivid and told in such a compelling narrative

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    • September 11, 2024 at 3:42 pm
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      Thanks, Laura, waxing lyrical for a change…

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  • September 11, 2024 at 11:43 am
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    I am sooooo glad you took the prompt as a time to write about your time in Ireland. This is absolutely wonderful and how I would LOVE to hear you read it aloud at dVerse LIVE on Saturday, September 14th. You’ve taken me there….and what a wonderful journey it was.
    These words and details really made me see and feel this experience….
    “my lure is about to break the surface
    when the Pollock strikes
    turning in a thrilling
    savage flash of silver
    right before me.”
    Hard to pick out only a few lines as the entirety of it is like a journey into your memory of a wonderful place. Love it!

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    • September 11, 2024 at 11:48 am
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      Thank you so much Lillian – I had written about meeting the otter in my writing group but it was good to put the whole “ledges” memories together. 💜

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  • September 11, 2024 at 12:14 pm
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    Did you take your title from that old poem I remember from school, ‘Sea-Fever’ by John Masefield? I miss Ireland, although I was last there over forty years ago but, like you, I can ‘travel there anytime in my mind’s eye’. You brought back the scenery I loved so well in your poem, especially in the couplet:
    ‘as gentle swells roll in from the West
    smoothly curved as a reclining breast’
    and the descriptions of the different fish, especially:
    ‘…the Pollock strikes
    turning in a thrilling
    savage flash of silver’.
    I also love the otter – we get them on the Norfolk Broads.

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    • September 11, 2024 at 12:29 pm
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      Well spotted Kim – I didn’t take photographs of a lot of places that I would do nowadays – my first digital camera was tiny and it was pre-smartphones so it’s a good job I can remember…

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  • September 11, 2024 at 1:22 pm
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    This is a beautiful nostalgic poem, Andrew. I love all your images of the shore and sea. So much fun to play peek-a-boo with a baby otter!

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    • September 11, 2024 at 3:43 pm
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      It was a set of memories just waiting to be set down, Dwight…

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  • September 11, 2024 at 4:30 pm
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    An amazing poem, Andrew … dreamlike and mesmerizing.

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    • September 11, 2024 at 8:11 pm
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      Thank you so much Helen – will you be there on Saturday?

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  • September 11, 2024 at 5:46 pm
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    Love the littls story you weave from the prompt.. a day like this is great to have in your memory far from the sea…

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    • September 11, 2024 at 8:10 pm
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      There’s something about putting memories together in poem form…

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  • September 11, 2024 at 11:54 pm
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    What lovely memories of the sea from your homeland. I loved the cheeky otter, playing hide and seek. I thoroughly enjoyed reading your beautiful poem. 🙂

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    • September 12, 2024 at 7:25 pm
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      We lived in Ireland for 10 years but then returned to England as we were not seeing enough of our grandchildren growing up otherwise we might still be there on the western fringes, Di…

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  • September 12, 2024 at 12:50 am
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    You set a descriptive scene, I can imagine being there. I also especially love the part about the otter. I can imagine you playing hide and seek with him.☺️

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    • September 12, 2024 at 5:49 am
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      Yes, it was amazing, Melissa – a rare, genuine interaction with a wild animal – unforgettable…
      Glad you could picture it…

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  • September 12, 2024 at 3:17 pm
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    This is gorgeously rendered, Andrew! 💖💖 I especially love this part;

    “so clear I can see the bottom
    slowly retrieve, pausing, simulating
    the rise and fall of a weary baitfish
    my lure is about to break the surface
    when the Pollock strikes
    turning in a thrilling
    savage flash of silver
    right before me.”

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  • September 12, 2024 at 3:51 pm
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    Hi Andrew, a beautiful set of memories encapsulated in poetry.

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    • September 12, 2024 at 7:27 pm
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      Thanks, Robbie, shall we see you on Saturday?

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  • September 13, 2024 at 9:40 pm
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    you might like the Pacific as well. of late, very large schools of baitfish (anchovy, sardine?) have caused a melee of sea lions and seabirds gorging themselves practically to silliness along California’s central coast ~

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    • September 15, 2024 at 9:45 am
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      Ah yes – is it the Humbolt current that comes right up that side of the Americas? One of my favourite books is Cannery Row set amongst the abandoned sardine canneries and I would love to go there one day – I did cross the Pacific by ship in 1968 when I was 14 and my family had been in Australia so I do love the Pacific – at one point you go 2 whole weeks without seeing land and that first landfall is Clipperton Island – still a thousand miles to go to Acapulco and the ship circled the island – the crew told us (slightly tongue in cheek I suspect) that the reason was that having travelled in a straight line for 2 weeks, they wanted to test the rudder…

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  • September 17, 2024 at 12:37 am
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    A lovely poem, filled with grand memories!

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    • September 18, 2024 at 2:26 pm
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      Indeed, Sara – thanks for visiting…

      Reply

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