There is a cove,
A sheltered Bay,
To where, they say,
All the weathered fishermen
Know the way.
I once requested a tour,
Only to be told,
That by years, I was not yet old.
That someday I may learn the way,
Though it may be to feel its waters' cold.
I did not understand why,
All those who knew the course,
Speak of it only in a hushed voice.
As though they fear its very name,
And why none would venture there by choice.
Many years after I'd heard its name
I was taken to this bay of fame
For my actions on land and sea
The captain took me round to the lee.
Inside an iron crab box I was laid
And told for my crimes my debts now paid
And soon I felt the waters' cold
Of this cove that I'd been told.
For me they said no words,
My soul is now interred,
This sheltered bay,
To where, they say,
All the weathered fishermen
Know the way.
Learn more about this author, Thomas Howard Elliot.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.
Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:
Life always lives, and death always dies.
What does fear of death mean to love?
Where does the love of life fit into death?
Love
I try not to fear,
The realm that's near,
Where I either don't exist,
Or my soul manifests,
I have a vision of what could happen,
If
Aodh Ponders over Roadkill Possum
O inglorious death
How you mock me with assured victory
Your gloating army surrounds my feeble
Fear of death.
Fear of death was upon me.
As I dropped to the floor.
"Please Lord help me!"
I can't take anymore.
Then
There is a cove,
A sheltered Bay,
To where, they say,
All the weathered fishermen
Know the way.
I once requested a tour,
Only
View All Articles on:
Poetry: Fear of death
Add your voice
Know something about Poetry: Fear of death?
We want to hear your view.
Write now!
Featured Partner
Taxpayers for Common Sense (TCS) is a nonpartisan budget watchdog serving as an independent voice for American taxpay...more
hide