Small Cornish harbour end of day
Tacking in from a choppy sea
Call the Master for a berth
Tie up, safe home
Steering through the Channel lanes
Ferries slam past, container vessels loom
Into Cherbourg calling with school French
Master chuckles, welcomes us in
Sliding slantwise into Plymouth
Fighting the wind all the way
Naval Frigate spinturns to miss us
Master reproachful to us each
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
We are visiting Southhampton (a busy port) today, so I thought I’d share this once more.
The Cheesesellers Wife 
Sounds a wonderful place.
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Oops, the formatting goofed (or rather I did). The poem is 3 verses about 3 different places, Fowey in Cornwall, Cherbourg in France, and Plymouth, a busy Naval harbour. Each time a sailing vessel is entering port, in the fist and last verses, I’m on the boat. The middle verse tells of my then 13 year old son, sailing overnight across the English Channel with school friends (and 2 teachers!). My son was ‘skipper’ for the night and made that call in scanty french to the Harbour Master.
I’ve just edited the post to show it as verses again…..
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