99. Epic -- The Flying Dutchman (Canto 1)

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The 99 Poem Challenge
Fox-Trot-9

99. Epic — The Flying Dutchman
Canto 1 — Lost at Sea

The overcast of morn had cleared across
The sky, emblazoned with the sun in warmth
And light now streaming through the colored glass
And landing on the pews, a light that both
Uplifts my temper and excites my nerves
To know that in a fortnight I will change
My name and be a wife, dear God, a wife!
I say, between the January frost
Of winter and the budding spring of March,
Scarcely a day has failed to pass me by                         (10)
When time and time again I found myself
Pacing about where'er I went, my thoughts
Fixed on his whereabouts upon the sea.
I know not where he is but pray he makes it
O'er there adrift on tossing waves and billows,
O'er there with wayward crew 'neath sun-baked masts,
Looking perchance from out his cabin window
As I imagine him out there, and thinking
Upon me here—or so I'm wont to think.
God knows what he is doing over there,                         (20)
While over here my mind runs wild with worry.

But over here within the leafy groves
Of ancient Zederik, so far away *
From crowded Rotterdam and Amsterdam, **
Begins the weekly toil of sacraments
Unto the grand pursuits of wealth and faith,
Where the sun shines upon the sweaty brows
Of lawyers, ministers, physicians, clerks,
Industrialists, and farmers, and shopkeepers
And bureaucrats, the lot of them beneath                         (30)
The spell of trade, religion, politics!
The Twelve Year's Truce that was supposed t' ensure ***
The peace o'er all still makes me cringe to hear
Of Oldenbarnevelt's beheading hawked ****
By every doorman, even at the church.
It seems to me that, even here where God
Should reign, the knives of discontent still haunt
The weary minds of everyone but me.

No matter: here I am anticipating
The swift return of Phillip Vander Fokke, *****                         (40)
The fastest man to ever captain ship
Across the seven seas, the bravest man
To ever sail through squall or storm, the best
And only man for me. Yet here I was
In constant agitation 'neath the chapel
Steep, walking to and fro, in expectation!
Oh, how I need to calm these jumpy nerves!
I sat upon the pews towards the back
Close to the empty entrance of the church,
Where no one would perceive my agitation.                         (50)

Here I sat wond'ring where he was right now,
My thoughts adrift within a churning sea
Of doubts and fears and memories of him
Upon the fateful day he left the port
On such a lovely January dawn.
Indeed it would have made the proper scene
For Shakespeare's Winter's Tale but with a clear ******
Distinction: when he said his last goodbye, 
He also took my happiness and left
Me here alone to brood upon his safety,                         (60)
Turning a comedy of problems to
A slow unending strain of sheer suspense
And bitter-sweet contentment. Ah, I still
Remember it as though the passing months
And days and hours have yet to dull the strength
Of memory. That day, the biting cold
Of winter 'gan to lull with spells of warmth
Blowing in gentle zephyrs from the coastal *******
Dunes, melting snow and ice upon the chilly
Banks of the Dordrecht south of Rotterdam ********                         (70)
Right where the hulking trading ships are moored,
With Our Dear Lady Church o'erlooking it. *********
Right there was where my love and I last saw
Each other, there within the crowds of traders
And sailors, there beneath the bluest dome
Of heaven where the burning eye of God
Himself looks down upon us mortal beings;
So let the God Almighty be my witness
If memory may err. So bitter-sweet
It was to spend the morning there with him                         (80)
Upon the dock—so sweet because he stole
My love with promises of marriage after
He would return, and sweet because I gladly
Believed with all the insolence of youth,
And yet so bitter when the ship set sail
To catch the wind beyond the harbor's reach,
Waving my arms as it began to fade
Away beyond the farthest reach of sight,
And all the while, the warmth imparted from
His parting kiss still ling'ring on my lips—                         (90)

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