F. THOMAS CROWLEY

 

http://www.linkedin.com/in/ftcmoa

 

http://www.therealmaine.com/calendar.html

 

 

Thomas Crowley

AUTHORSDEN:   biography   poetry   contact author

 

 

Sailor, CPA, consultant, turned fisherman writer solicits patient humanists to read with irreverence & humor. Will rhyme for food - F. Thomas

Background Information

From a young age, my survival and life has revolved around reading, and then writing. Steinbeck, Hemingway, Ruark and Rand to TS Eliot, Robert Frost and JG Whittier helped along the way. Alcoholic parents and a self-centered, fierce independence gave way to a great marriage and loving, supporting family. A new respect for health and time to write inspire me to begin the sharing and helping others through poetry and short stories. Always looking for new venues.

Birth Place

Phila, PA USA

Accomplishments

Haverhill Gazette, Haverhill, MA  poems, articles, features on historic preservation and restoration The Port Planet, Newburyport, MA  contributing editor and occasional column writer Offshore Magazine  poem, “Salt Water Towels” The Hartford Courant  short story, “Truck Coffee” The Camden Herald  published poems: “Conway House”, “The Bridge at Ducktrap”, The Village Soup  poem, “More Than a Tree” Belfast Poetry Festival, 2005  reading of poem “A Scrap of Wood” New Works Fest, Newburyport Firehouse Theatre  one-act play “Three Spirits” Recent, unpublished works  poems and short stories about the impact of Hurricane Katrina on the people of New Orleans Corporate Publications  published articles highlighting my clients’ achievements and key events in corporate newsletters, industry magazines, and special edition promotional handouts at Coopers & Lybrand, PMSC/Cybertek, and Parson Consulting, LLC

 

 

 

The Bell Buoy off Lincolnville Beach

 

There is a bell that tolls for me

But the message is always out of reach.

I’ve heard it ring for many years.

It is the Bell Buoy off Lincolnville Beach.

 

Whenever I am far from Maine,

I wonder does it toll the same…

There is no other bell that rings so true.

Is there a bell that rings for you?

 

Like the tree falling in the wood,

The noise is made but it’s not as good,

As being there to hear it fall.

If I can’t be there, I don’t care at all.

 

For the magic is in the context there.

Much clearer in the cold, salt air.

It calls through the fog, just out of reach.

I think it’s The Bell Buoy off Lincolnville Beach.

 

I worked on the schooner of my childhood dream.

The ADVENTURE was mine, at least that it did seem.

Jim was the Captain and he taught me quite well

I learned how to sail through the fog to a bell.

 

His vision was “sharp” and his senses were keen.

I gave him full measure when I was still green

The lessons were hard, yet I begged him to teach

And I lowered the topmast in Eggemoggin Reach.

 

I sailed with my wife as the cook down below

As she patiently waited for the next wind to blow.

When I hoisted my anchor to find my own ship,

She was right there as First Mate in case I should slip.

 

We worked Maine in Summer, B.V.I. in the Fall,

And the winters were spent very far from the call

Of the one thing that beckoned but would never beseech;

The call from The Bell Buoy off  Lincolnville Beach.

 

Now I’ve lived my life as I thought I should

I’ve sown some oats and I’ve burned some wood.

I married the girl of my unknown dreams

And it went too fast as I stifled the screams.

 

I’ve no regrets and I swear that’s true

I love my wife and my two kids, too.

I just wonder if I learned what the sea winds teach,

Taught by the Bell Buoy off Lincolnville Beach.

 

I come back now to sleep and rest,

Inhale salt fog and eat the best,

I’ve been gone so long I forgot it’s a test

Pursuing the game and the money quest.

 

I must bide my time each year and wait

Until the work is done and I can vacate

To spare a week or two..’tis fate.

I ease the hunger, but will my love abate?

 

I think it won’t until I get back here

But I’ve said this too. Year upon Year.

I’m old and I’m sore but the dream’s in reach

I think I hear the Bell Buoy off Lincolnville Beach.

 

Let me have my dream and my family, too

We’ll come back to Maine and find something to do.

I’ll sell Trout Slippers or Quohog Quiche,

If I can just hear the Bell Buoy off Lincolnville Beach.

 

 

SEQUEL added after 9/11/2001

 

 

Past 50 now, but I’m slow to learn

I’ve given up the cities and gone with the yearn.

I’m sailing home on a long, broad reach

And I’m dropping my anchor at Lincolnville Beach.

 

 

First written on  5/31/94

Edited on 3/4/96, 10/28/98, 7/16/99, and

7/16/2001 – latest edition

Still like it the way it is – July 7, 2004!.

 

F. Thomas Crowley, Jr.

Box 336

Lincolnville (Beach), Maine 04849

 

Copywright 5/31/94