Boatswain!
Boatswain
Here, master: what cheer?
Master
Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
Exit
Enter Mariners
Boatswain
Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,
if room enough!
Of course I might have been dreaming......
....we are such stuff as dreams are made on....
7 comments:
I often dream about sailing, and curiously, my boat is usually in the process of sinking. Or transforming beneath me from a sailboat to a tiretube or worse. What does that mean, JP? Did you ever have a dream like that?
Methinks you dreameth of the Tempest
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
OK, that was the other one with the old geezer
King Lear, not Tillerman!
Five iambs strung together in a verse
Make every gale and tempest that much worse.
I'll take my nasty weather, then, in prose
When spume and spray and seas are on the nose.
Alas my dreams, or at least what I can remember of them, are very boring, and rarely involve sailing.
Maybe that should be a group writing project, best sailing related dream (or kayaking, mustn't forget Bonnie).
Yup, that was indeed The Tempest, not the "Ode upon The Man of the Tiller"
O'Docker - very good! Post it upon your blog for a wider audience than a comment over here. Liked the spray on nose bit the best.
Full fathom five blogfather lies;
Of his posts are legends made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea change
Into something rich and strange.
Watch out or Ariel will find out you've been borrowing his words ;)
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