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Sonnet for a Shearwater

A shearwater can fly as far as the moon

and back, three and a half times.

Launching from the safety of a burrow on Skomer

its maiden flight in the pitch and gloom

a clumsy free fall and belly flop.

Blind faith fuelled

on a wing and a prayer

before the big burn to Brazilian heat.

I remember the crash, then falling from my bunk.

Sound amplified when a steel mast is hit

reverberates down through the hull.

On the deck a dishevelled heap blinks.

The use of an anchor light we discover too late,

will hasten the journey to another world.

©Julia Angell 2015
Written in response to a workshop on Sonnets, led by Helen May Williams, and, as one sailor to another, Jules knows Ann would appreciate it.

Besides being a real ale connoisseur with a bus pass, Jules is a sailor who saved her dinghy from becoming a flower bed. She also coxes the local Celtic longboat. Jules believes that life is all about finding the rhythm, she sings with the ‘Singing Village,’ and plays a Bougarabou, an African drum — ‘her therapy’ she says. She also writes monologues and the odd poem. Although she’s had poems published online, and therefore disappeared into the ether as far as she is concerned, she feels her main claim to fame is having a poem printed on the back of a beermat. She feels that this is particularly apt.

Jules finds living ‘on the edge’ inspiring. So much so that she now offers coastal themed creative short breaks for groups. See Wanting to put more back into the place she loves, Jules is also now running a community poetry group in her village, Mooring Lines. This is open to anyone in the area who would like to come along and ‘have a go’. See the Facebook page, Mooring Lines St Dogmaels Community Poetry Group or e mail