Or perhaps a Sea Shanty A large tall ship in Hobart Town Its masts did reach the sky A white cloud upon the ocean When it goes sailing by. The James Craig is the vessel’s name A large three masted barque One of four tall ships still on the sea A grand old patriarch Launched in Eighteen Seventy-Four Home port was the U.K. Twenty-six times It passed Cape Horn A greyhound of her day, It sailed out of New Zealand Made three Tasman trips a year But steam ships were gaining ground The end was drawing near James had a stint in Hobart Town With IXL Henry Jones Before crossing the Pacific With stores in World War One A coal hulk in Recherche Bay James lost the will to live, It was scuttled in Recherche Bay James had no more to give. For fifty long years James sat there Slowly rusting on the sand, When the Maritime Museum From Sydney lent a hand. They patched Old James with plywood So that ship would float again Then towed James up to Sydney Where the rebuild began After thirty years of careful work James Craig would sail once more Each two years we see the barque Sail into Hobart ‘s shore For fifteen decades and counting This ship has survived it all, Once more at sea for twenty years So beautiful and tall. A large tall ship in Hobart Town Its masts did reach the sky A white cloud upon the ocean When it goes sailing by. The James Craig is the vessel’s name A large three masted barque One of four tall ships still on the sea A grand old patriarch Bill Edmunds Wooden Boat Festival February 2025 billedmunds.com
Author: billedmunds43
Dear Ron
Dear Ron
You make a good point my friend.
Far too often I’ve written
After my friends have passed away,
My thoughts to them ungiven.
Dear Ron, you are a good friend -
For over a decade now,
Ever ready to assist,
Always there, ready somehow
To help make life easier,
Whenever your time allows
Putting a shed together,
Sometimes pulling out a chair,
Or placing crutches safely
Out of everyone’s way, where
They won’t be tripped over
By others moving past there.
You and Gerald made a team
That understood, come what may,
How to get a good job done
In the most efficient way.
But now, time has intervened
And all that was yesterday.
You have a welcoming smile,
Never a bad word to say,
I look forward to being
With you every Thursday
At Sippers, sipping coffee,
Talking, passing time away.
Max and I take much pleasure
Consuming the marshmallows
You generously provide.
Passing banter that follows
Makes all our friends laugh and joke,
As their coffee they do swallow.
I know you miss your Carol,
You were partners decades long,
Putting her at the forefront,
Caring, making her belong.
It’s a tough time, please take care,
Cherish memories, stay strong!
Bill Edmunds
December 2024
billedmunds.com
Salamanca Market
Salamanca Market
A watery, mid-autumn sun above,
A slight southerly breeze rippling leaves,
Throngs of people crowd Salamanca,
Hobart’s premier market, to perceive
Hundreds of stalls, waiting in the street
For the tourists and locals alike,
The perfect place to spend Saturday
On “Bluey”, my mobility trike.
Joy bought me a hat to shade my eyes
From the sun reflecting on my glasses,
Now I could see the wonderful stalls,
everyone and everything that passes.
I was at the perfect height to view
Assorted tummies, bums and wares,
Weaving among the crowd of people,
Enjoying all that was on offer there.
billedmunds.com
May, 2024
Bill at Salamanca Market
Fagus
Fagus
Autumn is a time of enchantment
In the mountains of Tasmania,
A time when many of the locals
Are inflicted by “Fagus Mania”.
High in the mountains, above the snow
Line, the ‘Fagus’ turns to autumn gold,
In sheltered gullies, near lakes and tarns,
Its beauty is special to behold.
Uniquely Tasmanian, deciduous,
The Nothofagus Gunnii draws me
To that rugged mountain wilderness,
Every April, this special sight to see.
billedmunds.com
May 2024
Fagus
Fagus
Autumn is a time of enchantment
In the mountains of Tasmania,
A time when many of the locals
Are inflicted by “Fagus Mania”.
High in the mountains, above the snow
Line, the ‘Fagus’ turns to autumn gold,
In sheltered gullies, near lakes and tarns,
Its beauty is special to behold.
Uniquely Tasmanian, deciduous,
The Nothofagus Gunnii draws me
To that rugged mountain wilderness,
Every April, this special sight to see.
billedmunds.com
May 2024
Young Love
The oars dipped rhythmically into the stream
As the dinghy rode on the incoming tide
Upriver from the town, past the school abeam.
Young lovers, enjoying each other, satisfied.
A barn appeared upon the bank, beckoning.
Words unspoken, they slipped ashore onto the hay
Embraced, and then without prior reckoning
Enjoyed each other, on a warm, summer’s day.
A farmer called as they ran to the riverbank,
The dinghy soon slipped downstream on the current,
Away, around the bend. After their little prank
The lovers smiled, each relishing the moment.
A small but momentous moment lost in time,
A memory of love that would last a lifetime.
Bill Edmunds
February 2023
billedmunds.com
Sprawled on the street
Unrequited Love
Hey! Have I got your attention?
Tap, tap. I just want to mention . . .
I see her almost everywhere,
It’s driving me to distraction!
One moment she is here, then there.
Can there be no satisfaction?
She is at the window of Unit one
Then, there she is at number two,
But wait is that her at thirtyeight?
I really don’t know what to do!
Our beaks meet through the window glass
Then as one we both look away.
If only she would accept my pass,
I would be happy if she’d stay
Too late! I know that I did try.
I limp beneath a bush . . . And die!
Footnote: the noisy miner was subsequently found dead in the garden.
Bill Edmunds
29 June 2022
billedmunds.com
Bill Edmunds 