(brilliant Performance - Re-Post) Poem by Sailing to windward

When the shouting over angry heads
died to whispers,
riding a jostling, seated audience,
his journey to the front row began.

Slowly pushing eastwards, in fading darkness,
dodging bobbers, buoys and rocks
to little Russell’s way,
In time for curtain rise.

With the “view in solitude” button firmly pressed,
(doubles intensity of light, colour and emotion)
the day’s leading actor appeared,

Gracefully, slowly,
the hidden mechanism lifted him,
from below Herm Island’s screen,
until his full, head turning,
eye squinting brilliance,
took centre stage.

Then came the noises off,
but the day had started well,
and nothing can ever change that.


(The Little Russell is the sea passage between the Islands of Guernsey and Herm)