Much as an old coaster

Much as an old coaster

Founders in heavy swell

Turning slowly into the wind

A long way from is birth

In a shipyard on Wearside

The old man flounders,

Scrawny arms

That once were strong enough

To hold the world at bay

Flaying wildly in the air

In search

Of respite

A ship with barnacled bow

Once smooth

Enough to cut through

The dark swell of the North Sea

Pitch into troughs

Ride high on white-caps

A sturdy little merchant

Running hard for port

Before the real storm breaks

In his haste to find a harbour

The old sea-dog is adrift

Marooned in search of home

He knows not

Which way the wind blows

Nor how to navigate

The voyage

Perhaps he needs safe haven

Find mooring, take rest

In the shelter of an old stone wall

Ride out the storm

Safe from harm

He is grounded now,

A proud old clipper

Scuttled on a shallow sandy bank

So very far from Sunderland

A creaky rusted ticker

The stately heart of him

Sadly giving out

With no hand on the tiller

No stars to guide him

He floats on a rising tide

Into coal cast dark light

Drifting into the vale

Beyond,

A salty dog on a lonely sea

Foundered,

On his last journey home