POEMS

I’M SAILING ON LIFE’S OCEAN SAMTAMPA DISASTER 1947 I’M KNIT GUILTY!

I’m sailing on life’s ocean, With no rudder to guide me through, The oars that helped me sail the seas, I lost so long ago, The seas of life can be cruel, But I’ve kept my head afloat, Just waiting for my Guardian Angel, To lift me to his boat, My story’s not a sad one, For I have learnt so much you see, And when my time is almost up, I know my Angel will rescue me.

Marilyn Cook, Bridgend

THE HAUNTED ROOM

Who weeps when the wind is blowing? When the rain from the roof is flowing? Who weeps when the wind is sighing? When the sun in the West is dying? During the day, in the light of noon, I fling wide the door of the haunted room, And all is still – without a sound, There is no weary ghost around. Naught save a bed hung with tapestry, With scenes of some wild storm at sea. Who sighs when the rain is falling? Who fills the chamber with sad calling? Who lights the candle by the window pane, Then blows it out at break of day? Perhaps one night I should explore, The haunted room beyond the door, And see what ghost sighs at night, And weeps beside the candlelight. One night perhaps, when the moon is bright, But not for all the world this night.

Dafydd Matthews, North Cornelly

Those three score years and fifteen more, A tragedy that rocked our shore. As seething seas, its course did hamper, And tossed, and lost - SS. Samtampa.

Two boys had sounded the alarm, When milk run took them to Sker farm. As thrashed around - in a nightmare, Of thirty-nine, in deep despair.

As they fought to keep afloat, A call went out to a life boat. Of eight brave men they couldn’t ask, More dedication to the task.

So, from Mumbles to the ship, Those heroes made their final trip. In darkest time, they shone a light Beacon of hope, in blackest night.

When I go running, past Pink Bay, I sometimes stop along the way. As on the rocks - upon the groundMemorial, to them, is found.

The light goes on, despite the cost, As Mumbles finest men were lost. For those in peril on the sea, They risk their lives, for you, and me.

Wilfy Edwards, Porthcawl

I knit in our conservatory, knit while I watch TV. I knit them in our caravan, that’s home from home for me. I knit those stripy bobble hats, tasty apples too. I try a new one every year, this time an octopus or two. At last I pack and post them to those at Innocent. I’m sure that they will welcome the treasures that I’ve sent. On their tasty Smoothies these little hats they pop. So folk can pick and choose them while at their local shop. The money raised for Age UK works wonders for their cause So we put our hands together for some Innocent applause. Hurray!

Judy Dee, Porthcawl

2021

Email us your poem info@seaside news.co.uk

GUITAR LESSONS SOUTH WALES

THE FEAR OF THE LORD

No, not a God afar are you But one who is always near, A God who’s aware of our deepest needs As well as each childish fear And you want us to find you in life’s fiercest storms To know you, not just alongside But entering into each circumstance As the God who is come to abide. Jesus, our Saviour and our Lord Great I AM, God of glory and grace Only you be our fear. Let us know you are near As we live in the light of your face.

Pauline Lewis, Porthcawl

Days of freedom, days of joy No more Covid, boy, oh boy! Playing touch because we can No more social distance ban Back to work and on the job Free to mingle in a mob Going to the shops once more Waltzing round the dancing floor Swimming in the pool and sea Inviting friends back home for tea Going to watch the rugby match Playing games of chase and catch Free to wander in the park Holding hands with Betsy Clark All squashed closely like bed bugs Giving Granny great big hugs!

John Davies, Eglwys Nunydd

Catherine Tanner

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