Homecoming

Last year I started work looking at my Australian Connections.  Recently my eldest grandson was asking about my Dad, his great-grandfather, who was born in Brisbane and came to England in 1931.  I had sent him various bits of information I had gathered about my Dad and so it was uppermost in my mind as I attended this week's poetry zoom workshop.

I think the little boy hanging over the rail in the middle is my Dad on the SS Hobsons Bay as it was leaving Adelaide in 1931.  They had boarded the ship in Brisbane and already called in at Sydney on the way.

In the poetry workshop we were looking at Assonance.  This is the repetition of vowel sounds in words that are close to each other. It is usually the sound rather than the letter used that is important.

We were set this challenge: Write a poem exploring an aspect of history or an historical incident/event/activity - can be personal, local or global. Pay particular attention to your use of assonance to give appropriate ‘music’ and emotional tone as you shift focus, emotion and subject.

SO here it is:

Homecoming 

Boarding the ship
The queue unhurried,
One step, and then another
moving slowly, dragging cases
filled with all their worldly goods.
So much left behind.
Toys, books, school, friends. 

Thudding into life
the engines churned,
throbbing through the walls
and floors. The ropes
untied and drawn aboard.
The noise and clamour
of shouted goodbyes.

The three children jumped
up and down, excited
by their new adventure.
Leaving Brisbane behind. 

Brisbane to Sydney.
Sydney to Melbourne.
Each port leaving a fond farewell.
Melbourne to Adelaide.
Adelaide to Fremantle.
Australia left behind.

Somewhere in the Indian Ocean
with no more boarding
or fond farewells
boredom set in.
Games played over and over
until they no longer had meaning.
Adrift at sea, wave upon wave
Nothing between them
and the horizon. 

Fremantle to Colombo.
At last some land in sight.
The last leaving, or so they hoped.
No longer the warmth of southern sun
but cloudy grey and cold
As the engine thudded
and throbbed its way
to a land they’d never known. 

But first more landings
Colombo to Port Said.
Port Said to Malta
and the last leaving.

Day after day, week after week
The engines drummed their ears.
Until, at last, the terminal port.
And their final leaving.
A homecoming of sorts
in a land they’d never known.

Thanks for being here today
Bernice