Sunshine on the Rippling Flow

The ripples of the water ran
Below the old wood bridge
Besides that old and shaky span
Swayed dry reeds and green sedge

The ripples glistened in the sun
On waters to the east
But darkly out the waters run
As they flow to the west

The bridge it cast its shadow there
So ripples all seem dark
And all was silent everywhere
No lark sang in the air

The skylark now comes with the spring
As days they grow more long
Rejoice all in a little thing
As small birds sing a song

All ripples on the water glow
When sun shines from above
There’s joy in it, all yet may know
Through small things all find love


© T Morgan (From Saga of soft glistening lights)

Control or destroy

Many times in my life I have come across psychopathic control monsters.  Most have worn business suits and exuded a sort of oozing charm.  At core the need for control comes from a total inability to understand just what human empathy actually is and to engage in it.  These days I never try to use reason with such a mind set.  Keeping a safe distance is really the only thing to do!



In souls of those here
Who have never known joy
The motive is clear
And as for the few
Who may get in their way
Their spite will be true
For opponents – “…must pay !”
They’ll pay out in blood
Or carry false blame
Or be trod in the mud
Or lose a good name
They’ll pay out in hurt
As they’re trapped by a lie
They’ll be treated like dirt
And some – “…have to die !”
And yet for those few
One sure thing is true
They’ll never know Joy !

© T Morgan 31.1.2003

The Last Loss

On 29 April 1945 days after the death of Hitler, the U-Boat war continued to the bitter end. Having avoided one torpedo that day, HMS Goodall was hit and started to sink. As her crew were escaping into the freezing sea other escorts detected the U Boat and attacked, ploughing through men in the water and killing some with depthcharges dropped about them as they struggled to survive. Soviet boats present rescued some as did one Royal Navy ship.

Last but not Least:  Recollection of Survivors by Vic Ould

Last but not Least: Recollection of Survivors by Vic Ould

Men in the burning sea

Swimming Sailor

He fought a fate that seemed quite near
He strove to get away
And all about he sensed such fear
There on that doleful day

He jumped into the icy sea
He swam out from her side
But diesel oil was pouring free
It spread out far and wide

The sea held safety from the flames
But oil will float and burn
Ah, Fate it plays the cruelest games
Death comes to each in turn

The fire spread out across the sea
More swift than birds may fly
And there it seemed his destiny
To freeze and burn and die

His arms and head then caught alight
He fought to swim straight on
But who can win a hopeless fight
We saw him and felt wan

With flailing strokes and failing then
He was soon lost from view
Apart from prayers of watching men
There’s nought that we could do

Small bubbles rose from his last breath
All faded then in him
The fire and cold had caused his death
His dying quick but grim


Drowned Sailor

Limp and lifeless drifting downward
Sinking slowly through the cold
Washed so slowly there to landward
He would never now grow old

Though no more now would he face fear
Back at home old folk will weep
Blue clothes cling about him here
Though all’s blackness in the deep

Bubbles rising from this clothing
His warm blood is now all chill
Drifting, sinking just a dead thing
Arctic cold was quick to kill

Fate was sealed and death was grim
U-boats here are about
He’d called out as ships had passed him
Passing matelots heard him shout

In the springtime on the shoreline
Stinking corpses marred the shore
Arctic daytime chilly sunshine
Clearing up a ghastly chore


©T.Morgan 2014
From Work in progress: HMS Goodall 29 April 1945, The Last Loss