Saturday, August 30, 2008

A Poem I Wrote Today

The Tale of Ansen Abermire and the Great Sea Monster

by Frank Kelly

There was a young fisherman called Ansen Abermire
who rowed from Galway bay
To fish the current from point to point
To cast his net all day

But many said beyond the Arans
a sea monster lay in wait
For foolish young men like Ansen Abermire
with death it kept a date

But not one for myth, legend nor tale
away he went away
Beyond the bay and the Aran Isles
to fish the Atlantic Spray

But the fishing was light to be sure to be sure
and not a morsel bit
The day dragged and dragged and dragged
and so young Ansen quit

He turned his boat round about
to pull in his final net
But something caught and tugged and fought
and held fast where they met

A whale pray not or shark much worse
for fear his net would mar
A school much better of silver salmon
or perhaps a healthy carp

But instead what rose from the dark waters
Was something much worse then that
A head the size of his boat plus two
and a mouth with hunger spat

Down it came down and down
A terrible hideous sight
Crashing and smashing and chomping it came
Down on Ansen to bite

Swallowed whole swallowed he was
A man in deepest peril
And down he went to the creature stomach
deep inside the devil

He struggled and pushed and wriggled inside
but nothing he did could turn the tied
The end was close he could see it near
He should have listened it was clear

Dark it was, inside the monster
no light nor sound nor breath
Pushed he was, washed a sunder
to meet his unhappy death

Finally he stopped against a wall
of flesh and warm wet slim
he felt around for some way out
but nothing came no sign

Then a movement he did not expect
the walls seemed to give way
an opening that was not there before
a way for him away

But no door opened on to light
instead the floor divided
His feet tried for purchase but slipped
and down Abermire glided

He seemed to fall for an age
A vast space within
and then a stench like nothing before
came up to greet him

He choked and coughed and spat a fuss
but nothing he did could chase the must
of fish and flesh and damp sweet rot
waiting to bed him in his new cot

And land he did among the corpses
of whales and sharks and half eaten orcas
Bones and skin and flesh all around
some living some dead but all bound
To the fate of one swallowed whole
by the great sea monster beyond Galway shore

Then he remembered his trusty knife
and into his pocket he reached
He pulled it out and withdrew the blade
and stabbed to cut a breach

But nothing happened that he could see
no mark was left inside
all that Ansen seemed to do
was make the monster annoyed

A belch a burp a convulsion came
and green acid began to rise
Whales and sharks and fish disolved
They were being digested alive

And so for fear of never being rescued
out his knife he took
Better than slowly being digested
Into his wrists he cut

The blood poured warm and fast
and slowly his life did ebb
sadly the final net he cast
was the one that left him dead

And then he saw the strangest thing
a light off in the distance
God perhaps or angels come
to deliver him home this instance

but no it was a hand instead
come reached down within
and pulled Ansen Abermire
to safety on the deck of kin

He looked around and saw a crew
of twenty men or more
the finest fisherman ever known
to leave Galway shore

For years they sailed and sought and hunted
for the great sea monster slain
and here today day finally
their voyage was not in veign

But alas it was all to late
for poor Ansen Abermire
He had cut too deep and lost too much
in the dark in the mire

and so he left this mortal plain
to cast his nets away
far from Galway and the Aran isles
beyond the Atlantic Spray

The End.

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