IMMEASURABLE DEPTHS
Gargantuan waves bear down on plunging ship. We round Cape Horn ahead of dawn, tossing stealthily.
Dubious, I smile at your wide-eyed incredulity, thrilled expressions. Trepidation? I believe not. “ - Look Mummy! it’s like in the Ancient Mariner! There’s the Albatross! I won’t kill it, Mummy, I’d never hurt an albatross.”
Enrico “C” thrusts powerfully through appalling seas, skirts Isla de los Estados, (1) heading straight for Malvinas. (2)
Gale, hurtling clouds. We stick it out on deck, strapped to railings; our eyes peer from woollen balaclavas at implausible ocean swell.
Malvinas: aloof, windswept isles, stumpy vegetation, not one lone tree. Midsummer chill. Puerto Argentino (3): Slate-tiled roofs, glassed sun porches, stunning flowers! Man-made miracle: impossibly shipshape town on uttermost archipelago of planet.
Hospitable family welcomes us to tea. Chilean dwellers, not Kelpers (4). Malvinas’ youngsters stirred by Argentina. So close, yet banned to them. Girls, above all, long to escape peaty isles, austere lives. To seek out Latin men? You, my inquisitive boy, alert to all! Exchange of telephone numbers...
Return to ship and Chess Competition. You join Junior Group, win Cup. Captain: “He shall compete with Seniors!” One false step at finish… Game Over! We beam at cups and prizes: exquisite model of Enrico “C” and a silver plaque.
Today these images visit me. These only, not a myriad others. I gaze out my window at cold-hearted Buenos Aires skyline, harkening to echoes from fathomless depths.
June 21st: Winter solstice. Sorrowful sense of Summer’s far-flung idylls.
I feel you embrace me, dropping in when I most need you.
By Psyche
(1) Isla de los Estados: Grey rock island near Tierra del Fuego. (2) Islas Malvinas: Argentine name for Faulkland Islands. (3) Puerto Argentino: Port Stanley (4) Kelpers: People who gather kelp, a species of seaweed.
Notes: In Southern Hemisphere, June 21st. marks Winter Solstice. This journey was made prior to the war over the islands.
Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, June 21st., 2006.
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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