The Deep Blue

Poetry

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

I was magnificent once, the first of my kind and strong

War was my design and I revelled in the throng

With archer’s who could volley a dozen arrows every minute

And spike shot sent to shred the hulls of those who sort to sink

Below they stoke the guns, through smoke and creaking bows

Above the gunwales quake with shrieking voices, cries and howls

Yonkers, gromets, archers, ship boys, pikemen and the cooks

All moving as one being, towards the enemy, a flock of rooks

As we turned to face the red flags a wave it heaved my sides

It was over in two minutes the men trapped beneath the tide

They didn’t close the gun port and we took on water quick

I took five hundred with me as I sank into the deep blue slick

There I lay in silence, at peace with the moving waves

Creatures crawled across me and silt it sealed my grave

Ninety-one guns were still in the deep dark blue

Five hundred voices silent, I was a ship without a crew

And then they came to find me, quietly at first

Timid with their curious hands, digging in the dirt

They found my many treasures, a pot, a plate a bow

And soon the found the truth of what I held in the undertow

Now I am for all time, my planks they are laid bare

And all around me are my contents, laid out with reverent care

I can see the guns that once I held, my belly bursting with the weight

But now I have no war to fight in the Solent strait

And so, I wait here patiently as you peer through the glass and ponder

How could it all have been so quick, beneath the roaring waves and thunder

But it was the sea that took me, it knew it was my time

I am at peace for all to see, a snapshot of my prime.

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I recently took a trip to the Mary Rose museum and wrote this poem about the Mary Rose for the Portsmouth Education Partnership, Pupil Poet Laureate project. For more information click here.