Music

Creative

 

Home | Help | Contact Us | Useful Links | Terms of Use | MP3 Archive

THE FISHERMAN

 

Dirty, grey washed, unclean skies and seagull's wheeling echo calls

In lonely, deep perspective with its hollow, raucous, circling companions -

And there's a boat! Tipping her snub nose at frothing, death enticing waves

, Beating out her diesel drum to brave the turning tide -

Under hooked, black, ragged sailing clouds she makes the estuary -

On course for home, fighting the mighty river.

 

Who is it there, framed in that dim lit, rain hazed, streaming wheelhouse window?

Does he share my apprehension at the bucking sea surrounding him?

Or is he guiding back his faithful steel-clad lady,

With the watchful eye of a mariner, on channel, tide and buoy,

Un-phased by nature's noise and shivering, shipboard clatter -

On course for home, fighting the mighty river.

 

He is making for this harbour inn -

These welcome lights, which glimmer, shine, seducing him

Around the crawling mole, where tossing waves give up their chase

And quiet waters shelter him, returning from that old historic race

Against the ancient elements. I see him now, more clearly -

And wonder, from my comfortable window seat,

Where warming fire and beer and cheer and noisy skittles meet,

As he flings out wet mooring ropes, embracing iron bollards -

If there's a wife, or lovely sweetheart at the inn,

Who saw him too, and whispered prayers for her fisherman,

On course for home, fighting the mighty river?

©Richard Hill

The Fisherman [2:59] - soundscape composed by Richard Hill

<< BACK TO LISTENING ROOM

Home | Help | Contact Us | Useful Links | Terms of Use | MP3 Archive

Copyright ©2018 Richard Hill. Site design by Paul Hill.