Nowhere To Nowhere

This poem was written for the Friends Of Newport Transporter Bridge AGM Evening. It commemorates a story told by my Great Aunt about her and my Grandmother sometime during the first World War, but from the Sailors' perspective!

The story runs thus: my grandmother and her sister were once escorted to the top of the Transporter Bridge in Newport by a couple of sailors on shore leave. My Aunty Esther takes up the tale:

Esther: ...and on the way down, your nana slipped, and one of the sailors grabbed her and put his hand on it!

Nana: (With great dignity) He didn't put his hand on it, Esther! (Sniff) He put his hand next to it!

Esther: Yes! And you never told him to take it off until he got to the bottom!

'Til this day I haven't discovered what "it" was.

Nowhere to Nowhere.
Or Two Sailors to Two Sisters.

Come, sit beside us on this gondola.
We are young.
We're available.
On this fairy, ariel gondola,
We're on leave
And our tacts unassailable.
Were these cables a harp,
And were Heaven in Newport,
If you weren't too thin,
And you hadn't been too short,
We'd think you were angels
For a ticket or two bought
To go nowhere to nowhere on a gondola.

Come, cuddle up close on this gondola.
We are bronzed.
We're untameable.
On this gliding, glittering gondola,
We're doe-eyed
But we're strictly un-namable.
If this Sun was a Moon
And this rain was a zephyr,
If you weren't so plump,
And if you weren't so clever,
We'd swear, `til we sail,
To love you for ever,
Going nowhere to nowhere on a gondola.

So, bid us adieu from this gondola.
We are strong.
We're unhurtable.
On that airy, fairy gondola,
We were keen
But you proved quite unflirtable.
Though our options are slim,
And our chances keep halfing,
If you had stopped glaring,
And if you had stopped laughing,
We wouldn't have sailed
Dissappointedly having
Got nowhere from nowhere on a gondola.