Majestic Grave
In 1941 my father and all but one of the crew were lost when their minesweeper, HMT Almond, struck a mine somewhere in the sea off Falmouth. My imagination led me to think of the sea in a different light due to the hidden world below the surface.
A MAJESTIC GRAVE
Watch you the crashing sea and rolling wave,
Stare well, for you see a majestic grave,
Engulfed complete, poor humble souls below,
As jagged rocks hold firm their bodies fair.
Plankton smoke washes their drifting hair.
Moving silty sand, slowly digests an arm, a hand,
Likewise great ships, all broken, once so grand,
Decks full awash, fathom bathed, lying at an angle,
While torn bowels gulp black oil, a last discharge,
Signing well a deep spot where all do rest at large.
Forever, moving tidal stones grind and tumble,
Spoiling delicate forms, like our bodies humble,
‘Till nought’s left whole for man to recognise,
Each spirit gone, lost as vapour to the skies.
Watch you well that crashing watery grave.
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