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September 1999
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Poems
Lester Sandford
Atlantic Vigour
- Fond Memories
I used to drive the mail
They gave to me a picture,
Just the other day.
Of the first ship that I sailed on,
From Grand Bank, Fortune Bay.
She's sailing in through Grand Bank Gut,
A fine and stately sight, A clear blue day, the water's
calm, 'Oh' what a pleasant sight.
It brings back fond memories, of days long since gone bye,
Well, we were all young lads away back than, and didn't
sit and sigh.
Tis there I learned to splice the rope,
And yes the wire too, mend the twine,
And tie the knots,
My teachers, they were true.
Tis there that I did learn the chart,
The Decca + Loran,
The one they call Uncle Stan ,
Taught me to be a man.
There's something else that I did learn,
On the old Monarch dear,
It taught me how to laugh and smile,
And yes to shed a tear.
When I rolled in to Newfie,
Thirty odd years ago, I had not me a dollar
I had no place to go.
Around old Grand bank Town.
I didn't know how to laugh,
Only just to frown.
I grew up in that Newfie town,
And on the Monarch too,
To think about the times back then,
It takes away my blue.
The crew they came from Fortune Bay,
A damn fine hearty bunch,
They knew their work, and taught me well,
They'd help out in a crunch.
The Herridge and the Hillier,
The Pardy and the Price,
The Evans, Forscey and Cox,
Those guys could shovel ice.
The Butt and the May,
The Savory and the Keeping,
We worked the night and the day,
Not too much time for sleeping.
The Douglas and the Matthews,
The Lovelase and the Miles,
The work was hard away back than,
But there were lots of smiles.
The Simms and the Symes,
The Scott and the Fotte,
The Baker and than there's me,
Out there on the rolling sea.
I'm on another ship right now,
A clammer from Grand Bank,
The crew list now is much the same,
To God now I can thank. For guiding
Me, many years ago to that
Fine town of Grand Bank.
Lester Sanford May 13,1999
Atlantic Vigour
Banqueareau Bank.
I used to drive the mail
down in West Jeddore
I use to drive the mail,
Down in West Jeddore,
That might not be really right,
I was only three or four
We'd start out in the morning,
My Grand Ma and me,
In that blue Chevy pick up truck,
A pleasant sight were we.
I remember she would sing to me,
Those dear old Gospel songs.
And tell me little stories,
And of the rights and wrongs.
Sometimes Grand Ma couldn't go,
For reasons I don't know,
But Uncle Fos would take the truck,
Off up the road we'd go.
He'd tell me little stories,
That would give my heart a thrill,
But the thing I really liked the best,
Was going down over Tobey's Hill.
Well that was really something,
The mail run for sure,
Delivering the mail,
Way down in West Jeddore.
Now, when the work was finished,
And Fos was driving home,
He'd stop down at Ralph Baker's,
Perhaps an ice Cream Cone.
Well, it's so nice to think about it,
Those days of early youth,
With Grand Ma and the mail,
She taught me to seek the truth.
Lester Sanford, 1999
Aboard the Atlantic Vigour
Banquerreau Bank. |
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