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. Listen to: The Stevedore The city docks stand idle and forlorn, Old wharves and 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 dock foremen call, For gangs of men for that day’s labouring? The city docks stand idle and forlorn. Or board the Kiwi meat-boat in the morn, Her holds packed full, ready for unloading? 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 f