The RECLUSE

The RECLUSE

I am not a driven man
Consumed by purpose
I have ambled along life’s path
No particular aim in mind
I take no pride in not being assertive
For I have let life happen
Not forced its course
Little guidance have I sought
Or been offered
Little forethought have I given
I steered no path between the tides
To avoid the quicksands
Or to avoid being tempted by the Sirens’ wail
Gratefully
I was not confronted with
Scylla and Charybdis
I would have baulked with indecision
And without a philosophy
Religion no longer holding any sway with me
No politics to speak of
An indolent practitioner of life
Without imperative
Perhaps too conscious
Of everyone else’s point of view
For this no doubt I’ll pay a price
And when the final reckoning comes
They’ll say “He never cared”
But they will be wrong.
I cared too much to confront
My irresolution
And now I suffer for it.

The Purpose To It All

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

As I considered how my life was spent
How purposeful, how plotted
A sigh escaped me pleading to be heard
And as I sighed I felt the pain
Some twinge of inner turmoil
The pent up tension of all those years
Summation of a retreating life
Intent on seeking some resolution

For what had it been all about
What purpose behind the screen
How indistinct the clouded scene
However firm the frame
How difficult it had been

To keep the picture clean
How worthwhile now to try
For passing clouds will understand
More than I can see
But I trust that others will come to understand
More than has been gifted to me

WHITBY – North Yorkshire

[  Photo Blog # 75  ]

Moving from my visits to the coastal areas of the far south-west of England over the past few weeks, I now wish to post over the next few Thursdays a number of galleries of my photographs from the opposite, North-Eastern, coasts of England.  This particular photograph collection is of the historic North Yorkshire coastal town of Whitby.  I have visited there before in a number of my earlier blogs.

The photographs below cover a variety of different scenes within the town . . .

Whitby (0) OS Map

 

 

Whitby (1)

The jawbones of a whale, framing the ancient Abbey and church on top of the cliffs on the southern bank of the River Esk as it meets the North Sea.  In the 18th and 19th centuries the whaling industry was thriving in Whitby.  Dozens of ships braved the Arctic seas off Greenland to hunt these elusive leviathans for their lucrative whale oil.  Many of the crews never came back.

Whitby (2)

A similar view, but this time showing the statue of Captain James Cook, gazing out to the North Sea, from where Cook first set out to sea in ships transporting coal to London and the River Thames. 

Whitby (3)

Close up view of the Cook Memorial

Whitby (4)

Looking North along the Yorkshire coast towards Sandsend

Whitby (5)

The sea entrance to Whitby Harbour

Whitby (6)

Modern reproduction of  HMS Endeavour, the British Royal Navy research vessel that Lieutenant James Cook commanded on his first voyage of discovery, to Australia and New Zealand, from 1769 to 1771.

Whitby (7)

Whitby Inner Harbour looking south to the ruins of Whitby Abbey

Whitby (8)

The modern ‘Endeavour’s’ figurehead

Whitby (9)

Modern-day street entertainer at the entrance to one of Whitby’s many ancient ‘Yards’.   Visit my poem about this particular historic Whitby spot at:  ‘Argument’s Yard’ 

Whitby (10)

Queuing for entry to Whitby’s famous ‘Magpie Cafe’, renowned for its fresh fish and chip meals.

Whitby (11)

Goths in Whitby for one of its regular Goth Weekends’, a celebration of the fact that Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ novel begins its story near the ancient Abbey here.

Whitby (12)

More of Whitby’s Goths

redline-thin

To Heal the Hurt

beach

She

Was late

After  nine

Walking slowly

Along the seashore

With only one purpose

Looking for his sand imprints

The staunch assurance in his stride

Resolution  taut as pre-stressed steel

Hoping against hope she’d find him weeping

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The above ten line story was prompted by Davy D’s excellent ETHEREE,  ‘Laptop Love’, posted on 8th November.  He has introduced me to a poetic form of which I was scarcely aware.  I do know that the etheree can take a variety of different forms, but for this, my first attempt, I have kept things simple – if that is the correct word for a rather tricky exercise. 

The photograph was taken by me earlier this month on the North Sea coast of Yorkshire.

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