Francis W.T. Cooper

St. Leonards-On-Sea, East Sussex, UK

Educated: Dovercourt High School, Chelmsford Grammar, RN RTD.
Personal: War wounds, aggravated by old age ailments restrict me to reading, writing, TV or classic FM listening. I take occasional trips down to the sea front for I have never lost my love of the sea and ships. Just as it was inevitable that my fascination of the glorious English language should make me a poet and artist.

Tranquil Night

Tonight is night, all sailors love,
For myriad stars, shed light above,
And gentle breeze, breathes, so softly,
Stirs, mast and spars, a towering loftily.
'Tis like caress, of dear sweet maid,
That soothes our brows, our troubles laid,
And brings to all, such, sweet repose,
A sleep that sailors, seldom knows.
In tranquil pose, we harbour seek,
And there, we'll thank, in posture meek
God of creation, who calms our fears,
Brings us 'thro storms, with grateful tears,
Battered, bruised, but safe ashore,
We sailors thank you, evermore

Angels Tears

When thro our lovely, glens I stride,
Soft gentle rain, doth fall
'Tis the tears of angels, absolving blessing, all
For you my love, are by my side.
Step, by step, each day,
'Tho long gone, your prescence's felt
Each step along the way,
And 'tho I stumble, sometimes fall,
Those angels tears, revive.
To bring me out to sunshine,
Still glad to be alive.

First Love

When first I gazed, across the room,
And locked mine eyes, on thine,
It was as if, electric shocks,
Surged up and down my spine,
That this was love, I had no doubt,
Cupid's arrow, struck my heart,
I knew at once, that destiny
Could not, keep us, apart.

Who Knows

When next you hear, a seagull cry,
Pause awhile, and ponder,
Look upwards, to a clear blue sky,
Then scan calm sea, out yonder.
Can it be true, that old wives' tale,
'Tis anguished cry, of poor dead soul,
That drowned; and now doth rail
And curse cruel sea, it's anger shows,
We island race, still say, who knows?