The Crows Nest
This is the place to be, up high in the air with a telescope to my eye watching for a sail or clouds. You do of course have to love being outside and enjoy being close to the sky.
Sky
In places the sky's quite robust,
In others it leaks rain and dust,
But then once a year,
There's a shower of beer,
So living just here is a must.
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Star-scape
Missing you I search a canvas full of stars
wishing for an image honest and true,
then jewelled by Saturn, Venus and Mars
I see a necklace, pretty, but not as you.
With the Milky Way a bed of pin-wheel light
and Andromeda a smudged lipstick kiss,
a hundred galaxies line eyes so bright
I am rewarded, and inspired see this.
A tumbling mix of white hot nebulae
turning into curls of your cascading hair,
painting your portrait as clear as day
to remind me of why and for whom I care.
As under my wish and from my Earthly place,
I see forever within your smiling face.
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Of course the weather can play a big part my moods, and the moods of everyone on the ship too. It's not that we are scared of storms though they can be frightening, more that we respect them as we would a lumbering giant, dangerous and most unconcerned with our fete.
Night Sky
For the first time in my life
I see constellations beyond
the persistent light pollution.
The plough, the kite, the tripod
I named that one, and I think
I see why the sky's been
filled with creatures as
fathers have painted
it for their children.
There's the triangle,
and there, a napped flint.
I missed this view, born blinded
by our success as the city
flees the night forever.
The napped flint's
angled edges glisten as I see
through my ancestors' eyes.
Feeling their fear as they see
through my newly opened ones,
I try to tell them the stars
are there whether seen or not.
"No" they say. A unicorn appears
then an entire zoo looks back.
"We are their keepers",
"Without us to watch they die,
and without them, we are
alone forever."
by Klannex Northmead
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