<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Quarterdeck Poetry Contest<\/strong><\/p>\n

The winner of the 2009 Quarterdeck Poetry Contest was Pamela Mansfield, for her poem “Verdigris – The Man at the Wheel.”\u00a0 As a girl, Pam lived across the street from the Man at the Wheel statue and often played on and around the Craske sculpture.\u00a0 Her father fished out of Gloucester and, in a remarkable coincidence, celebrated his birthday August 23, the same day as the original dedication of the statue, in 1925.<\/p>\n

The contest also recognized three finalists: Amber Gailitis for “A Letter from Gloucester,” Neal Kleindienst for “Let a Prayer be Said,” and Lydia Priest for “Beyond Home.”<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Verdigris – The Man at the Wheel<\/strong><\/p>\n

by Pamela Mansfield<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Blessed by your unwavering gaze<\/p>\n

faithful fleets steer a course<\/p>\n

long known to the fishermen of Gloucester.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At the helm, bronzed hands grip a spoked wheel,<\/p>\n

sou’wester and visage age to a patina.<\/p>\n

My father was one who sailed from this harbor<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And returned with a trip of fish<\/p>\n

all but one voyage, but you take note<\/p>\n

of they that go down to the sea in ships.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

See, you seek them even now.<\/p>\n

Fog horn moans, salt waves sigh.<\/p>\n

Light encompasses a churning dark sea.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Steadfast through nor’easters, winter’s ice,<\/p>\n

you emerge in summer’s green, sparkling sky,<\/p>\n

flowers at your feet, dedications<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ringed around you, children perched<\/p>\n

on your shoulder, grandmothers posed for<\/p>\n

portraits and fathers making a pilgrimage to recall<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Fresh sea breezes and spin fishing tales and speak of<\/p>\n

those now permanently cast in bronze tablets,<\/p>\n

immortalizing the single memory of each man gone.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We say their names knowing but a few of their stories –<\/p>\n

their perfect storm of ironies so nearly shared.<\/p>\n

Troubles, fate, one last trip on board<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

An ill-fated vessel.\u00a0 Yet, you glorify them<\/p>\n

and we cannot help but look out to sea<\/p>\n

following your gaze to herald their safe return.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A Letter from Gloucester<\/strong><\/p>\n

by Amber Gailitis<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In old New England houses letters collect like dust –<\/p>\n

Your letters, Maximus, to my seaside city<\/p>\n

(to your seaside city)<\/p>\n

surface over time like driftwood.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Words about change, about love and miracles,<\/p>\n

about gulls that still stand on rooftops,<\/p>\n

about rooftops, sloping view upon the water,<\/p>\n

about water upon which schooners still sway.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But there are some changes letters cannot preserve:<\/p>\n

The sandy shoreline a mere skeleton,<\/p>\n

eroded bones of the whole body you once wrote upon.<\/p>\n

Movie crews invading like mosquitoes, certain seasons,<\/p>\n

recreating storms, perfect catastrophes.<\/p>\n

The Man at the Wheel still standing his post – tired and weathered,<\/p>\n

guarding the ocean that swallowed his boat and his men whole –<\/p>\n

now has a wife in a flowing dress, holding a small child,<\/p>\n

widowed by the water.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Maximus, Gloucester remembers your words<\/p>\n

because you and I, our city, are afraid of change.<\/p>\n

In every letter lies your life, my life,<\/p>\n

our city – and your ocean of poems.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Let a Prayer be Said<\/strong><\/p>\n

by Neal Kleindienst<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We’d laugh and play<\/p>\n

all the day,<\/p>\n

between his labors at sea.<\/p>\n

Now that’s changed,<\/p>\n

my days rearranged.<\/p>\n

He’s no longer there for me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I heard it said,<\/p>\n

what I most dreaded<\/p>\n

and feared the long nights through,<\/p>\n

that a ship was lost<\/p>\n

at the terrible cost<\/p>\n

of her captain and the crew.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What can I say<\/p>\n

of that tragic day?<\/p>\n

What dirge be upon my lips?<\/p>\n

Let a prayer be said<\/p>\n

for her dead,<\/p>\n

they that do gown to the sea in ships.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Beyond Home<\/strong><\/p>\n

by Lydia Priest<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Through driving rain and heaving surf,<\/p>\n

the fisherman hunches at schooner’s wheel,<\/p>\n

caught forever in sculptor’s mode.<\/p>\n

He and his wheel stand among bronze plaques,<\/p>\n

in memory of fishermen more real than he.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Some say he’s setting out to sea,<\/p>\n

but I see him heading back, his catch stowed,<\/p>\n

his family on the boulevard<\/p>\n

eyes strained seaward.<\/p>\n

He’s steering towards harbor home.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The prospective quarter’s half<\/p>\n

the sea-faring trade but still<\/p>\n

the coping wife waits eternally,<\/p>\n

unseen away from Gloucester,<\/p>\n

she and their kids taking up the slack.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    Quarterdeck Poetry Contest The winner of the 2009 Quarterdeck Poetry Contest was Pamela Mansfield, for her poem “Verdigris – The Man at the Wheel.”\u00a0 As a girl, Pam lived across the street from the Man at the Wheel … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-74","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\n