To the Lost Trawlermen of Hull

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O' if you could see the Devil's grin, would you trespass on his mortal sea?
Thy is no sanctuary to those perils, bound phlegmatic men;
whose hands labour in enemy boundaries.
O' trawler men, who art thou unite in brethren, fight incoming battles; torrential weather.
Many address the danger, huddled together; trying to keep warm
but we know death is no friend and is always hungry for more.
Waves heighten in the gale; surfacing the boat.
Many men lost, washed aboard, no-one can hear your painful calls.
O' trawler men, who risked their lives, we will never forget
thou' sadness remains daily: wives, sons, daughters, the ones left behind;
etched in their heart, handkerchiefs waved in the hands of love
sailing, never knowing the devil was awake and ready.

fishermenfishingHullTrawlermen

◄ The Bailaora of the Ball

When we were Gypsies ►

Comments

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Paul Sayer

Sun 12th Jul 2020 07:33

..."thou' sadness remains daily"...
&
..."never knowing the devil was awake and ready.

A touching tribute poem.
Po

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mike watts

Fri 10th Jul 2020 19:26

As a 'ull lad, born amidst the fishing community of Hessle Road, i can relate to this, great piece, enjoyed.

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