Day after day, day after day
We stuck, nor breath, nor motion
As idle as painted ship
Upon a painted ocean
Anna and Anna were walking back from the Zetland Inn
After celebrating a close friends birthday
It was a wild February night
With the west south west winds
Blowing at gale force
Fresh from the sea
But strangely it was winter mild
Although both women were quite windswept
Did you hear that Anna
Hear what
It sounded like a poem but wind has drowned the words
Then you could not have heard the poem
Who in their right mind would read poetry on a night like this
A madman I would think
There I can hear it again
It seems to be coming from the sentinel
I cannot even see the sentinel as the night is so dark
All our senses are alive but we cannot even see our boots
What do you think it was
It might have been a Lady Ghost as they are said to frequent this area
A Lady Ghost
Yes they are the sea spirits of the wives and sweethearts of those lost at sea
Why would they read poetry
To pass the time until their loved ones return from the sea
And if they do not return
Then they remain at their point of leisure forever reading poetry
Did you hear the poem
Clearly as I have no ear for storms
Did you recognise it
Yes it was from The Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Shall we venture towards the sentinel so that might keep the wretched creature company
I am sure that she would welcome out visit
It would be a pointless venture Anna as you cannot see Lady Ghosts
Are they invisible
Not really as beasts can see them but human eyes cannot witness their irregular forms
So you are saying that our dog would be able to see the Lady Ghosts but not you or I
Precisely
But our beasts cannot hear the poetry whereas we can hear every word
We can hear
Our dogs can see
The Lady Ghosts
Even on foul nights such as this
Anna and Anna ceased their conversation and entered their coastal cottage with little ceremony as they were glad of relief from the storm
Their dog whined a little as a form of greeting and then went back to sleep
Day after day, day after day
We stuck, nor breath, nor motion
As idle as painted ship
Upon a painted ocean
The Lady Ghost who was sitting on a small beach chair repeated these lines time and time again
She was looking out into the blackness of the sea
Her lover she knew was out there somewhere
And she was waiting for him to return