The Anchor Holds
 
Waves buffet, batter, foam white, heave
Crack loud, 'pon schooner's side,
Fearsome creaking, rolling shudder
Rasping pitch, against the tide.
 
Thunder, lightning spiking sky,
Clouds billow, blacken, scudding by,
Winds screaming, blast in fury,
Gulls screech with plaintiff cry.
 
Sails rip, billow, fray asunder,
Mainmast felled, gashed splintered deck,
Sailors, frantic, grappling, grasping,
'Gainst such force, but powerless.
 
Abandonment, sheer night of horror,
Inflamed within mind's eye,
A lonesome ship, deserted, doomed,
Alone at sea, in desperate plight.
 
Darkness piercing, frenzied fear,
Incessant danger, sore distress,
No hope be found, when terror bound,
Sheer raw, the turbulence.
 
Yet....hark, what borne upon the wind
What wafting sound I hear,
The gentle strains of lilting music,
If I, but cock my ear....
 
Oh, there, again, so faintly haunting
The voice of sailor's joyous flair,
Gusto, chorus, hearty laughter,
 Bursting forth without a care.
 
But how can such a blitheness be,
Within cold stormy gale,
From whence their confidence e'er yet,
Why might they not bewail.
 
Ah there, glimpse link of mighty chain,
Pearl droplets, tossing night,
Down, down, deeper down it goes
To anchor, gripping tight.
 
Fixed moorage, tested, proven, tried
By storm, before this day,
That every man believe as one
To put there-on such faith.
 
Steadfastly anchored, braced, no matter
Wind, nor terror's plight,
Securely stanchioned, kept for aye,
Until the dawning light.
 
Father God, Your mainstay love,
Your Presence, IS, though out of sight,
You, The mighty ballast, sure,
The anchor, holding tight.
 
Soft whispers from

Derry's Heart Poems © Sept 2009
Soft whispers
Poetry from the Heart
 

I have journeyed through the long,
dark night, Out on the open sea,
By faith alone, sight unknown, And
yet His eyes were watching me.
Now, I have been young,
but I am older now.
O, and there has been
beauty these eyes have seen.
But it was in the night, when
I faced the storms of my life,
Oh, that's where God
proved His love to me.
The Anchor holds,
though the ship is battered.
The Anchor holds,
though the sails are torn.
Well I have fallen on my knees
as I faced the raging seas.
But the Anchor holds,
in spite of the storm.
by Lawrence Chewning
and Ray Boltz