Tag Archives: Ray Stearn

The Futtock Rumbler by Ray Stearn, Isolation, The Lighter Side

Poetry, Words, , ,

The Futtock Rumbler

(To the tune of The Wild Rover)

 

I’ve been rumbling me futtocks for many a year

In the Dockyard down Chatham with me best rumbling gear

I’ve windlassed me pinions ‘til me rowlocks came loose

Then I packed up me tools to go home on the bus

 

And it’s row, row, clever

Row, row clever for shore

For a bold futtock rumbler

Awaits by the door

 

I went to a yacht chandlers I used to frequent

For me castellated nuts were battered and bent

I asked them for credit, they answered me “Nay…

Rumbling of futtocks I get twice a day.”

 

And it’s row, row, clever

Row, row clever for shore

For a bold futtock rumbler

Awaits by the door

 

Deep down in me ditty bag were sovereigns bright

The yacht chandlers eyes they lit up with delight

She said ”I have shackles and marlin spikes tight

And I never did mean what I said Monday night.”

 

And it’s row, row, clever

Row, row clever for shore

For a bold futtock rumbler

Awaits by the door

 

To the old Dockyard Matey I’ll confess, though it’s hard

Rumbling me futtocks in Chatham Dockyard

And if he forgives me as oft times before

I’ll rumble me futtocks outside your front door

 

And it’s row, row, clever

Row, row clever for shore

For a bold futtock rumbler

Awaits by your door (x2)

 

© Ray Stearn 28 May 2020

 

 

The Colour of Isolation, Ray Stearn, Isolation

Poetry, Words,

The Colour Of Isolation

 

A comb-over of bananas sit in the fruit bowl in the kitchen,

Green yellow with a promise of ripening.

Echoing the early yellow that was crocus on the daily walk,

Companions to white and purple cousins that all gave way

To yellow daffodils, that in turn deferred their time to dandelions, then

Pink drifting snow from cherry blossom adorning the park paths

So children can play at weddings.

Bluebells came, thinly in our local park.

Supported by countless shades of green,

Green, to hint at new life.

So many greens, so many lives.

 

Windows adorned with rainbows,

Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain

Rendesivir Options You Grant Blindly In Vain?

 

The black screen of the laptop

When it brightens to life

Brings contact with family and friends,

Vital links taken for granted

Just a few short weeks back.

Brothers, sisters,

Choirs, choruses,

Music,

Attempts at poetry.

The pleasure of a shared pun,

Or a short comment,

“I’m in the pink, no red alert here.”

 

A rare brattle of rain on the Thursday window

Could trigger the blue of depression

The grey of despair, but

The rattle of pots and pans,

Prompt at 8.00 pm gives a focus

For a moment.

 

For it is all moments, this time,

This place, this space

Where we exist,

All our thoughts coloured

By Corona Virus

And a comb-over of bananas in the fruit bowl in the kitchen.

 

© Ray Stearn 2nd May 2020

Rainbows on Windows, Ray Stearn, Isolation

Poetry, Words, ,

 

Rainbows on windows

And clapping on Thursdays,

Two metre spaces

And face masks on glum days.

Getting excited by microwave pings,

These are a few of my new lockdown things.

 

Tending allotments

And tending allotments,

Tending allotments

And tending allotments.

Taming some vines with bent wire and strings,

These are a few of my new lockdown things.

 

When the bug bites, fills the wards up,

When I’ve had my fill,

I simply remember my new lockdown things

And thank God that I’m not ill.

 

© Ray Stearn 29th April 2020