Colour of the sea

30 April 2019

The following poem came from the ship:

Ask me, not in Dutch,
but ask in English,
as a Dutchman might:
What is the colour of the Sea?

Why not ask, instead,
the number of the Stars?
World famous troupes of light
who waltz the hours off the Watch

While Sol is rolling
still with Moby
deep below the rim of sight
Till Venus re-rehearsing resurrection

Comes sprinting brilliant
stretches, fading feints
Her expiration
clears the crowded stage for sunrise splashing

Rocking silhouettes and
rolling shadows cross the
decks and tricksy Skylight
tints and tones the wavelets passing

Smooth beneath the bow
now frothy layers shiver jumble
tumble bouncing bumping quiver
swelling slacking crashing thumping
Wall of sudden colour coming

Winds will blow; or not
from blackest night through bluest day
Hold fast and pull the ropey tight
Ease out a bit; belay