Penmon Point, Anglesey, Jan Malique

They say you can hear the songs of ancient mariners drift in from azure horizons. Surprisingly melodic, even angelic, voices of brawny and sinewy men of adventure. Their eyes filled with visions of home and kaleidoscope of colour, scent and danger.

Or is this our perception of lives spent in toil and souls answerable only to the vast embrace of a lover with no equal? She whose taste is of salt and blood, whose voice lulls in times of quiet and roars in times of anger. Yet, your fidelity is unshaken and your liaison unbroken.

What say you ancient mariner of the journeys you’ve undertaken, of your calloused hands gripping rope and sail? Tell me more of your half whispered secrets, of things that can’t be uttered without fear of retribution and words that cut.  Are you blessed ones of Poseidon? What fealty do you give to one that offers safe passage across the boiling oceans of the Soul?

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