Saturday, July 18, 2015

The Widow's Walk--By Robert L. Hinshaw--United States

The Widow's Walk

The sea captain's weathered house still stands above the shore.
'Tis said that the old place is a century old or more.
Its long-shuttered windows face out t'ward the restless sea.
From the widow's walk his bride yet makes her mournful plea!

On dark and stormy nights 'tis said she can still be seen,
As she haunts the widow's walk acting out a spectral scene.
Her plaintive plea is heard e'en above the shrieking gale:
"Hurry home to me my love!" as she espies a distant sail!

'Tis said she lights a lantern to guide her lover home,
As he steers 'mongst the treacherous shoals and roiling foam.
Her heart is aflutter anticipating his arms and tender kiss,
Praying that this be his final cruise to e'er enjoy eternal bliss.

A phantom ship is seen to founder, according to local lore!
A sorrowful moan is heard e'en above the ocean's roar!
Alas, the ship sank 'neath the waves in the tempest tossed!
When ecstasy seemed within her grasp, all the souls were lost.

And e'en today in this supposed enlightened age,
The widows walk is transformed into an eerie stage,
Where, e'er young, faithful still, sobbing soft and low,
A sorrowful wraith awaits his coming, her true love to bestow!

Robert L. Hinshaw served 30 years in the Air Force retiring in 1978 in the grade of Chief Master Sergeant. He began writing poetry in 2002 at age 72 and has composed over 1100 poems.

6 comments:

  1. This is a fantastic write my friend. I really enjoyed reading this awesome poem here this morning. You have written a magnificent piece again, another one of your fabulous writes about the sea. You have some wonderful ones my friend. Great work,

    Russell

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  2. Robert,
    An excellent write. You had me feel for the poor widow in this poem.
    Your new friend,
    David Fox

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  3. Yes, I remember seeing the widow's walks up in New England!

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    Replies
    1. Robert, I enjoyed rereading your musical poem. I like how you handle the longer lines.

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  4. A sad, sullen poem casually reflecting on the mysteries of life and death in a paradoxical spiritual way. A little melancholy with a slow pace that entraps the reader into your emotional flow. Very imaginative use of words and skillfully constructed. Good work. Emile.

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