The Stevedore

This poem, of a stevedore mourning the passing of a way of life, is written as a villanelle, comprising five tercets and one quatrain of ten syllables in each line with a formal and distinctive rhyming pattern.

The Stevedore

The city docks stand idle and forlorn,
And aged warehouses lie decaying,
The sky weeps soft and gentle tears to mourn.

The long grass grows between the cobbles worn,
By the tides of men and cargo passing,
The city docks stand idle and forlorn.

The ships, seamen and stevedores have gone,
Now, few hold memories of our calling,
The sky weeps soft and gentle tears to mourn.

Who remains to hear the gang foreman's scorn,
Saved for those who avoid fair labouring?
The city docks stand idle and forlorn.

Or board the meat-boat in the early morn,
Holds full from her Kiwi coastal's loading?
The sky weeps soft and gentle tears to mourn.

For one last time, I pass those gates well-worn,
My memory, like the tide, is ebbing,
The city docks stand idle and forlorn,
The sky weeps soft and gentle tears to mourn.

Photo: BBC




















Location: London

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