Down on the Shore by William Allingham

Down on the shore, on the sunny shore!
Where the salt smell cheers the land;
Where the tide moves bright under boundless light,
And the surge on the glittering strand;
Where the children wade in the shallow pools,
Or run from the froth in play;
Where the swift little boats with milk-white wings
Are crossing the sapphire bay,
And the ship in full sail, with a fortunate gale,
Holds proudy on her way;
Where the nets are spread on the grass to dry,
And asleep, hard by, the fishermen lie,
Under the tent of the warm blue sky,
With the hushing wave on its golden floor
To sing their lullaby.

Down on the shore, on the stormy shore!
Beset by a growling sea,
Whose mad waves leap on the rocky steep
Like wolves up a traveller's tree;
Where the foam flies wide, and an angry blast
Blows the curlew off, with a screech;
Where the brown sea-wrack, torn up by the roots,
Is flung out of fishes' reach;
And the tall ship rolls on the hidden shoals,
And scatters her planks on the beach;
Where slate and straw through the village spin,
And a cottage fronts the fiercest din
With a sailor's wife sitting sad within,
Hearkening the wind and the water's roar,
Till at last her tears begin. 

Idly looking for fairy poems for my Fairy Portal - and poems about the beach -  after all it is that kind of weather.  This poem seems so perfect, although it doesn't have fairies at all - but it is by William Allingham and that's magical enough.  I just love the way the poem seems so sweet - and ends on a storm.

The picture is of a boat at Days Bay in lovely weather.  I hope everyone is enjoying the New Year as much as I have been - still it's back to work.  So much to do.   Enjoy!

A.J. Ponder 

 A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Wynken Blynken and Nod by Eugene Field

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
   Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
   Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
   The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
   That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
                     Said Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
   As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
   Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
   That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
   Never afeard are we;"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 

All night long their nets they threw
   To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
   Bringing the fishermen home;
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed
   As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they 'd dreamed
   Of sailing that beautiful sea---
   But I shall name you the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod. 

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
   And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
   Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
   Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
   As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
                     Wynken,
                     Blynken,
                     And Nod.




I was cleaning out the house and going through the bookcase  when I found a beautifully illustrated book of a poem I have loved since my childhood.  So of course I rushed to the net to see if there was much variation.  Apparently not.  Nobody seems to be able to better the original, and I would have to agree, it is truly beautiful.  The edition above was published when my daughter was born.  So of course, just like her - it's extra special :)

The poem has such a lovely rhythm and tone and contains truly beautiful fantastic elements that it's hard to believe it was written over a century ago.   Originally published under the title "Dutch Lullaby" - presumably because of the shoe.  

A.J. Ponder

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Lullaby for Vampires to be sung to the tune of Brahms

Lullaby, little vampire

The sun it is shining

Go to sleep, don't you weep

Night will soon be nigh

Then you'll crawl from your crypt

And wind through the window

Free your fangs on sweet prey

And feed from their flesh

Lullaby, and good-morning

Deathless vampires don't stray

From the cool clods of earth

In the light of the day

Let sleep, little wanton,

And dreams of destruction

Fill your head, little leech

'til the sun goes away

Lullaby and sleep tight

Knowing demons surround you

Around and about you

Above and below

Soon the sun it will fade

To a night dark and cloudy

And to humans we'll hum

This last lullaby

Lullaby and good night

Lullaby, my delight

Go to sleep, don't you weep

As through the night we creep

We've crawled from our coffins

And wound through your window

Freed our fangs, you're our prey

Now we'll feed from your flesh

A..J. Ponder 

Truth is there's no artistic merit to this one at all -  it's only here to match the zombie lullaby, for as everyone knows where there are vampires, zombies soon follow - and vice versa.   It was done with the urge to provide tasteless lullabies to go with a version of Brahms Lullaby I found, and to practise using a set cadence.  After all - who isn't thoroughly sick of vampires yet? 

Of course if you're not sick of vampires - why not check out Rudyard Kiplings Vampire poem - here - who would have thought?

Lullaby little Zombie (Lullaby for Zombies 2 - to Brahms)

Lullaby, little Zombie

Don't cry out for brains

Never sigh, when they die

For all humans are the same

They will weep as they say

It was all for the money

They will sigh as they say

It was your fault anyway

Lullaby, little zombies

Don't you go and wake now

Or stop those who will take you

And bury you alive

Now there's something, little zombie

That you ought to know now

There's one thing, little Zombie,

If you wish to grow

You should run, little Zombie,

Run from the reaper

You should fear, little zombie,

Fear, fear itself.

Wont' you cry, little zombie,

And suffer forever

Touch the fire, little zombie

Let your skin burn and peel

Lullaby, little Zombie

Believe all the lies

Wrapped up tight in the night

And sung lullabies

Soft and warm in your bed

Don't cry out for brains

Never sigh, now you're dead

All humans are the same

A..J. Ponder 

This is remarkably tasteless lullaby can be sung to Brahms - it was written on the 1st of August last year, and the points it makes are just as relevant as ever - and even more tasteless.  An apparently simple zombie lullaby - kept on twisting itself a new purpose - highlighting the extent to which organisations are prepared to risk other people's well-being for their own gain, including their peace of mind.