The Sea
Oh what is it about the sea?
How I wish it were certain to me.
Is it the waves with their bubbling white tops?
Or is it the fact that it never ends - never stops.
Perhaps it’s the power it looks to possess,
Or so it’s actions seem to express.
One moment so calm like beauty just born,
The next with the wind gives fear for a storm.
With its groans and its grinds that puzzle great minds,
It’s supplies of fish to frequent our dish,
Such marvels so bold I suppose it will hold,
Still secret from me the truth of the sea.
Aboard the ‘Northern Gift' Trawler - Icelandic Waters 1971
FormerMember
Omaha
In front the beaches far below,
behind the headstones row on row.
A Jewish star, a Christian cross,
all are marked, a life, a loss.
Their sacrifice the price to pay,
that we might live another day.
The veterans laid their wreath with pride,
honouring all young men who died.
Americans, French, Italians too,
shook hands, gave thanks,
to those who knew.
Faithful men who did return
And shared with us that we might learn.
Normandy
Dead Man’s Corner - St. Mère Église, A parachutist there was seized.
Point Du Hoc, Batterie a Longues, silenced by our ships beyond.
At Bayeaux, Juno, bullets flew; at Aromanches the cannons too.
To Pegasus the Horsa’s glide, river deep and swamp so wide.
Surprise attack it was the key but not the safest place to be!
At Ranville yet another wreath, recalling all who lay beneath.
So much to share at Bernières, Hillman, Merville too;
the German bunkers could have sunk us, hidden well from view!
Cintheaux farm a place of charm, but so much more to show;
Aladdin’s cave spoke of the brave, which earth held long ago.
Falaise Gap, strategic map - accounts of battle – living hell.
Visualised… but not the smell!
As we remember those who died, upon another shore.
We hope and pray that all may say, let’s have an end to war.
