Having read his anguished words
I too am moved to dip my pen
into the spilled inkpot of a
My wonderful ancestor, the mangels docked
you kept the knife and grinned
your way to the hunchback rain-soaked
church beside the sea. You found it locked
and bolted; the place in darkness. Empty.
Below, in the Ship, others like you
in brighter humour, were crowding the bar
noisy over the price of lamb the latest haul
Iago, under your blue slate slab
below the trembling hill pray rest
easy in your seashore bed.
gw 2003, 2010
note: a version of the above poem won 1st prize in the Autumn 2003 JBWB poetry contest. These and links to other contests can be found at www.jbwb.co.uk