At the harbor by Judith Clay
like ripe cherries
she’s a hibiscus
in the morning dread
harbor wakened – foghorns
wails – wooh wooh
but still among the ships
missing
missing
always missing
S/S Endeavor
wooh wooh – horn laments
gone for many months
promise of a swift
return – fading fading
washed away in
cold November rain
she’ll have fish again
sharing with
the child – growing
waiting to come out
waiting for his smile
that left them for
adventures of the sea
tears are cold as ice
blending with November rain
wooh wooh
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Today at dVerse poetics Claudia shares wonderful pictures by Judith Clay to write poetry to. Pub opens at 3 PM EST.
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August 24, 2013
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Beautiful soulful words Björn. Love them!
Anna :o]
Thank you Anna..
Oh, what a sad face she has as she waits for her sailor to return. I hear the foghorn & feel her hopefulness beneath her hopelessness. The November sea is cold and bleak, but it is good to hear that a child will be born to give joy its rebirth.
Foghorns and November rain sure creates melancholy.
oh what a tale…the child growing inside her, waiting on a father whose thirst was more for adventure…it is a very sad tale….love the sound effect, ha….i can hope for them…
There is still hope, but the wait is of a sailors wife is always filled with worries and hope.
Liking the sounds of the foghorn~ Fading sounds, cold November rain, all creating a sad waiting for that sailor out on an adventure ~ Lovely though sad story Bjorn ~
Thank you Grace, I thought foghorns at once when I saw the picture
This really put me there… love the sound effects.
oh heck… being the wife of a sailor is no fun… and even more when a little one is growing inside you and a woman needs so much more protection than usually… cool on the sound effect inclusion as well björn
You have woven a lovely wistful tale of waiting Björn!
This is so touching. It gave me the chills, to tell the truth. I think the focus on the fog horn was so effective, the onomatopoeia expressing the feeling of woefulness.
I grew up to the sound of foghorns.. still recall those days… (probably not used any more)
The art you chose is so gorgeous and love your mournful ode to her.
You capture so well the sadness I felt in this painting.
I love the sadness in that picture…
Beautiful, there’s a legend in Hong Kong about a woman and child that turned to stone from grief while waiting for a fisherman to return. Wonderful use of Judith’s art –
I grew up in a harbour town, and as in many other such town there is a statue of a waiting fisherman… and I so recall the foghorns wailing in fog… … so the story came to me directly.
Your first stanza is striking. Felt the salting breeze and longing.
…oh, so sad when one has to go away, leave the family for quite a time to work for a greener pasture & better future… very timely told Bjorn as many have to go in same situation… in working for a better promise of living among his wife & child he has to go away & miss a lot of chances to live close with family….what a struggle in both sides… excellent write & pick of artwork to go with your poem… smiles…
I like the story you create Bjorn.KB
That is beautiful. The wooh wooh only adds into the essence of the poem and I liked the effect it produces.
Her longing is beautifully represented. I really liked it.
Sorry, I forgot to close the italics tag… 🙂
I used to live near a fog horn. Your sound effect is perfect.
Waiting for sailor-man with a gift in hand.The anticipation of waiting can be exhausting, she looked sad. Your poem clearly strengthen the sombre mood in the pic. Great one Bjorn!
Hank
This made me smile, but sadly for them. ,)
I really felt the emotion. I was pulled in as if I was standing in the distance watching her under my own umbrella – feeling the cold rain, the sound of the boat, and her sadness in the air. Excellent indeed.
A mournful tale of waiting… the fog horn made me hear her cry…. soul laments. Nice to visit you, Bjorn. = )
Such is the life of a sailor’s wife… Well written response to the prompt. 🙂
They stand at the dock’s edge, they weep & stare out at the flat horizon of the sea, and their aching loneliness is almost unbearable, for too often, the sea shall claim their loved one, forcing the sailor to return the earth’s briny salty womb, ready or not, plucking off their appendages and fitting them for fins & gills; an old tale, a sickly sweet story, and you put us there with a near perfect illustration of Judith’s art; thanks.
There is something soulful about harbours anyway and when the foghorns blow – goose bumps.
You have me walking along fisherman’s Wharf in SF, dodging seals and trying to pull myself back together while half of me is still out at the cliff house holding a cold fish to my heart in the fog. WhooHoo.
Living in Seattle much of my life foghorns were everyday sounds that always seemed to bid a welcome as well as define a longing..something you get across with this inspired story.
Such a sad haunting scene, a lovely take on this beautiful painting. 🙂
Björn – great piece. i think your poem was a wonderful reflection of Ms. Clay’s artwork.
Wooh Wooh A wonderful story you written!
Hibiscus tears – not really an oxymoron but the thought of hibiscus is so brilliant happy shiny smiling – and yet this is a melancholy piece. Like Madame Butterfly though I think the characters dreams of happier days. Perhaps her man will return, the flowers will bloom as the sun shines ’round her back door again.
Beautiful melancholy soul to this….I love the title
waiting…well, the fate of wife in sailor/military family…sounds/sensations help to feel/to be with her…growing baby…and hope for sooner reunion of family. ~ nice use of picture
A lovely music here — all works well with the picture and the story. Well done. k.
This was lovely & sad at the same time..waiting for the ship to return..fog horns leave a mystic impression..waiting for her
child’s arrival and her lover’s embrace..
Poor sad hisbiscus gal waiting for the return of her love in a cold bleak November …waiting to be bjorn again:)
hi Bjorn, I like the foghorn wails permeating. Imaginative work.
Bjorn, this piece, with its melancholy foghorn almost mocking her… and the child, and the waiting. It’s all too real these days, and you brought that home to me without beating me over the head.
Loved the “Hibiscus Girl” of the title… I’m rooting for her! Amy
Bjorn, I love this. The wife of a man who goes away for his work has a special lament, and you captured it very well here with the wife of a seaman!