Fisherman's Wife

Victorian fisherman's wife melancoly life is revealed as she repairs a special fishing net.

Her net she stitched with urgency, 'incredible ability'.

Each  corded cell's sized perfect. Every loop aligned correct.

No quick job this netty task.  All her love is in her craft.

Netting stretching on her knees, forming  Holy Trinities.

 

Husband and son fish till late, in vicious storms, mists of slate.

Her first born son drowned alone, in the wind thrashed, heathen foam. 

This very net, fish to comb, trawled back to land her little one.

Her tears thank God now she can see, he lies in Christian sanctuary. 

 

Now that biting, tightening, twine springs her blood.  Communion wine!

Feeling neither blood nor pain; her swift needle leaps again.

Hours have come hours have gone, swiftly must this net be done. 

Repairing netting  fast and brave; it may have other souls to save. 

Reviews

[Cathy .W.]

WOW..this says so much in such small context but it has so much meaning into it. I really am feeling this one.
:-)
-cathy

[Creepy Swine Guy]

There is nothing more I can add. I can only agree with all of my being with Emma's words. This poem is stunning. It demands empathy for the fisherman's wife, it shows you her strength, he diligence and her love. I am awestruck!

[emmajoy]

What an extraordinary theme, plus, a beautifully created poem. I love this.. i see the past, cold hands and urgent hands, tears and courage.

I've seen old pics in a museum in Ullapool, Highlands - it used to be a herring or mackerel port years ago - so many show the old fisherman and fisherwomen, wives and families gathered for good or bad, working or playing. You've drummed up that memory for me with your post.

'Red netting stretching on her knees; forming Holy Trinities.' - what a fine phrase.. truly fine.

Thank you so much for sharing.