Man at the Wheel
Click on the photo to see it much larger. It’s interesting how the perspective and panoramic distortion make the the circle of plaques into a straight line, and the convergent lines on the pavement look roughly parallel! I took this panorama a while ago, but only got around to putting it together now…
The Captain at the Wheel
By Peter A. Todd 04/23/2010
Taking watch of harbor through days and nights
With his hands firmly gripping at the wheel
Our statue of yesteryear and today
With his eyes fixed like hardened steel
Many seasons and storms have passed him by
Since the Captain was dedicated by our shore
Through raging winds and sunlit skies
The Captain has done his faithful chore
The sands of time that has ebbed and flowed
In circling our great statue of the sea
Like the many stories of Fishermen of old
Our Captain sets the spirit within us free
The inscription etched below his feet
So treasured to the Fishermen in many ways
When the Sands of Time are stilled we’ll meet
Those we have lost now raised by God
From the oceans grave
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The Fisherman
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Watching over our boats night and day
With his hands at the ships wheel
A statue of faith for the Fishermen of today
With eyes fixed like glistening steel
Many a season storm s have passed by
Since he was dedicated on our shore
Through raging storms and sunlit skies
The Fisherman has done his chore
Our sands of time has taken its toll
From our great statue of the sea
Like many stories of Noah often told
Our Fisherman sets the spirit in us free
The words which are etched below his feet
So true to the Fishermen in many ways
When the sands of time are stilled we’ll meet
Those we have lost from the oceans grave
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Stacey Boulevard
Peter A. Todd 05/17/2010
Petertoddpoet.com
Sitting here and admiring our inner harbor
With the view of the Fishermen now and Gloucester past
Names of our Lost now etched at the harbors edge
Surrounding the Statue of our Captain in sunlit cast
Our beautiful harbor embraced by the colors of our nation
With the many flags that stand along the rails
This Island of Gloucester God’s gift of creation
With its Fishing Fleet and skiffs and Schooners at sail
The street lights which mirror years so long ago
The tourists and the Islanders walking on by
Dogs of all breeds chasing at their owners heels
Under God’s sky of blue and cotton puffed skies
Stacey Boulevard with it statues of marble and stone
Symbols of all our hero’s of the heritage of yesterday’s
Fishermen and soldiers who made Gloucester their home
For their Families to grow and their children to play
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