The quayside terminus belched steam and passengers
Parallel rails yielding to a dipping sea
A black iron cliff rose, majestic
Pockmarked with perfect rivets
Covered gangways swayed
A mysterious Rubicon
Corridors splayed in labyrinthine luxury
The Purser prowling imperious as
White jacketed stewards scurried, in service
The band bade godspeed as we slipped horizon bound
Lips mouthing, hands, hats scarves waving
Streamers billowed from cheering crowds
Tugs screamed to wrench the Leviathan
From its moorings to Solent water
Fire hoses arced in wind tossed spray
Remorselessly, the prow cleft the surging swell
Aft the frothy maddened wake
Lay momentarily, trace of our passing
Quoits rasped over polished decks
Grey shadows surfaced then sank
Eternity stretched endlessly
For five days no object checked our passage
The moon, stars and sun our celestial waypoints
Watched by whispering crests
The solid line on a misty horizon
Defined our destination as surely as
Brooklyn Bridge
The cradle of the oceans arms released
Her thankful charges
Into the Manhattan cacophony
Three funnels smoke
Rising above the teeming waterfront
Sketched a fleeting farewell
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