[Critique Group 2] Leonard's comments on Alice'spiece for Feb.

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

This is a humorous pieceabout what it is like to be 70.  



It flows nicely withgood poetic lines, 



written very carefully. A well told sea tale if ever therewas one. 



Though I do question your fondness for sea life if you getmy drift. 



Did ya ever consider getting yourself a humanmaiden.  



They can be quite the comfort, 



and they don’t smell of fish.




 


Sea Whitch



© By Brad Corallo



Word count 907 




 


The yarns of old men such as I, are often dismissed asexaggerated bits of daft nonsense or blatantly untrue. But by all that I holdas sacred, I sware the following story is as true as anything can be.




 


When I was a lad entering manhood, I proved my worth andskill as a fisherman here in the Orkney islands. I learned the ancient craft ofboat building and with the help of my mate, Angus, we fashioned one of thebonniest and most sea worthy fishing boats in all the Orkneys.  




 


Angus and I were a pair of strong, bonnie, devil may careyoung fellows who feared neither the wrath of the angry sea nor that of theLord himself. 




 


We both charmed many fair lasses as we were fine singers andcould dance a reel with the best of them. 




 


As time passed we were also recognized as formidablefishermen with uncanny luck. Twuz a rare day when we didn’t bring home abountiful catch which we shared freely with those of our village folk who hadfallen on hard times. 




 


As we earned some good coin, we would sometimes buy fineOrkney whisky which we would heartily enjoy with our mates around smokey peatfires in their wee crofts. 




 


So a couple score years ago, one brisk sunny morning, weboarded our sturdy vessel, which we had christened the Sea Whitch, and set offupon the tide in search of a bountiful fishing ground. 



By the blessed hand of fortune, our efforts were rewardedand after we had netted our share, we shifted sale to head home to the warmwelcome we imagined back on shore.




 


 Twuz then that amighty wind did blow up out of no where and we had to battle with sale and oreto make fair headway. But twuz not only wind that imperiled the Sea Whitch. Thewaters became more and more unsettled and a hard, lashing rain began to peltour wee craft like blows of the blacksmith’s hammer. 




 


How can rain be like a blacksmith’s hammer. There are toomany of them. They would crush the craft.




 


Then came dark storm clouds which crowded out any blue leftin the sky and hung over us like an oppressive shroud of impending death.




 


The clouds would have already been there with all thatrain.




 


As I have told, Angus and I were men not easilyaffrighted.   But I must confess, on thisoccasion an almost unnatural terror gripped both our hearts. With each minutethat passed, it became more and more clear that we had little chance of makingit back home. 




 


Let the ney- sayers say what they wish, but in suchcircumstances even the most Godless of men entreat the Lord for deliverance. Wewere no different!




 


With an unexpectedly violent heave of the sea, we nearlyfoundered and dear Angus was lost overside forever.  We had been bonnie friends since we bothlearned to walk. At this point, all resolve left me. 




 


Suddenly the sky cracked with blasts of thunder andlightening flashed. One bolt, like a bright finger of doom struck and the SeaWhitch was dismasted. I just missed being struck by a spar or getting tangledin the shredded rigging. But the trusty bark was damaged beyond repair andbegan to slowly take on water. Twuz then I knew it was all finally over. 




 


As I prepared myself for death, low and behold a large sealswam up and leapt into the Sea Whitch. I knew then I had finally gone mad withfear. By some process I cannot explain, the creature began to shed itsglistening pelt. So that ultimately a beautiful, dark haired, dark eyed maidenstood naked and unashamed before me.  Asthis was happening, unrealized by me at first, the waters were beginning tosettle and calm.




 


To my amazement she spoke thusly: “be unafraid my fair youngmariner, I am Bruokenn, queen of the Selkie Folk and daughter to she whocommands all the seas of Earth. I was deeply sorrowed by the death of yourbonnie friend and have calmed my mother’s capricious temper. I would not haveit that your life as well was needlessly sacrificed. I have laid an enchantmentupon thy vessel and twill make it back to shore with no travails. I banish thisstorm of the Goddess’s making and your life is justly spared.”




 


 And so saying, to myeverlasting surprise, she embraced me and I knew no more until I seemed toawaken from a dream. Still in my mind I heard her words strangely echoing:“dear fisherman, may your heart always be filled with the joy thou hadst erethe loss of dear Angus and may all your future endeavors flourish.” 




 


There is not much more of my story to tell. With the help ofher remaining ores I brought the Sea Whitch home to her cove and gratefullywent ashore. Though I had lost the heart for the fisherman’s life, I turned tothe noble occupation of shipwright. My name and reputation as a maker of thefinest sea going vessels became widely known in the Orkneys and even beyond. Imade a fine living, was widely respected and had many dear friends. Butwhenever a storm blew up suddenly, I would make my way to the shore. And ifever I did behold a seal, my pulse would quicken and a precious warmth; like noother feeling I have ever known, would fill my heart with peace andgratitude.  




 


jamesstarfire at gmail.com




 


Any one line is good. 



There are no favorites. 



They are all Impecable.



You promised youj woulduse kerfluffle , and you did.




 



 



 



 


 



By Alice Jane-Marie Massa



 



Kleenex,please!  Oh, yes!  I need a Kleenex.



Eyes are teary; nose issniffy.



Really! I am a Massa mess.



Fashion is replaced withcomfort and warmth.



Understanding of my“silver” sentiments is nearly nonexistent.



Fluff and frivolity rulewhile I miss serious, contemplative  hues.



Fractured momentsreplace in-depth pieces and comments.



Listen:  mylife should be filled with calmness, creativity--but …



Eve of Seventy, my worldis a kerfuffle!



 



* * *



 



Number of poeticlines:  nine



Number ofwords:  79



 



February 20, 2020,Thursday night



 



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