Monday, July 26, 2010

On a ship at sea

        Here, master: what cheer?
        Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
        or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
Enter Mariners
        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....


Baydog said...

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?

Turinas said...

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

Pat said...

King Lear, not Tillerman!

O Docker said...

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.

JP said...

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.

it should also be said...

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.

JP said...

Watch out or Ariel will find out you've been borrowing his words ;)