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Challenge: Red Sky Poem
November 30, 2003

"Red sky at morning, sailors take warning;
Red sky at night, sailor's delight"

By Cecelia Long
January 19, 2004

~ Untitled ~

The sun was setting and it painted the evening sky with deep crimson hues. There would be no foul weather to waylay them in their trip.

Jack stood quietly at the railing of the Dauntless, his mind and body weary. He hadn't slept much since the rum induced stupor on the island, having to guide the Royal Navy in an effort to rescue Will and defeat Barbossa.

As the Captain contemplated what he surmised lay ahead, he knew that the next time he saw such vibrant red, most probably in the morning, that it wouldn't be from beauty, but blood.

By Kayden Eidyak
January 19, 2004

~ Sailor's Delight ~

The sun sank into an endless sea of crimson water. Rays of the deepest orange bathed the shoreline, turning the sands to gold and setting the palm trees on fire.

A man leaned against the railing of a ship, the trinkets braided into his hair glinting. He stared out into nothingness as the blazing ball disappeared. The night was red. Was the superstition true? He hoped so.

"Are you satisfactorily delighted?" she asked.

Anamaria leaned up against the railing beside him. He glanced at her. The fading sun highlighted her hair and she gave him a smile.

"I am now."

By Hereswith
January 20, 2004

~ Red Horizons ~

Red was the evening that followed, that day. A horizon of blood, and the colour itself would have brought them delight, at any other time. But Jack was the Governor of a far, distant isle and Bootstrap was fish-bait at the bottom of the sea and, for the first time, fear took hold of their hearts.

"The curse!" Ragetti cried and covered his eyes.

And the gold glimmered and shone, in their hands, the skull that adorned every coin the only thing perfectly visible, as the sun slowly set.

The clouds parted and fled. The moon would be full, tonight.

By Sylvia
January 20, 2004

~ Not a Good Morning ~

It was Jack's turn to steer the Black Pearl from the old night into a new day. His hands rested comfortably on the wheel, the ship easy under his feet. He loved these hours, waiting for the sun to rise - a new horizon to sail for.

The sun began to rise, shooting light into the hovering clouds, turning them a blood red. Jack was not superstitious, this was just the sun rising on a new day.

"Good morning, Jack. Me and the lads want a little word with you." The feather in Barbosa's hat waved gently in the morning breeze.

By Geek Mama
January 21, 2004

~ Sailor's Delight ~

The sun had risen, a glint of gold in a gout of red and grey, like blood on a slippery deck, or the faded color of the scarf `round his head. And the trim merchant ship, low in the water, had brought to his lips a grim smile that glinted with gold as well.

That was this morning.

Now, Jack still smiled, watching the little ship fading astern against the Caribbean sunset, her people intact, in body if not spirit. His own crew sang as they worked to stow the swag. It would be a good night.

Sailor's delight, indeed.

By Eledhwen
January 21, 2004

~ Red Warning ~

He had not slept well since leaving Portsmouth. His nights were broken by dreams of his mother, vague memories of a father he had never really known. On waking, he found himself clutching the golden coin around his neck.

And so he was up to see the dawn. The sailors had long since ceased to notice him, and Will could stand quietly by the rail to watch the sun rise.

On this day, the dawn was red, casting a rosy gleam across the water, playing amongst the wispy clouds. He gazed in awe, wondering what the new day would bring.

By Lady Luna
January 21, 2004

~ Sunset Kiss ~

Will Turner looked out at the blazing red sunset with his fiancee. "Do you think Jack will be able to make it to the wedding? After all, it is tomorrow."

Elizabeth Swann smiled. "Knowing Jack, he is out there waiting for the sun to set so he can sail in with the Black Pearl."

Will turned to Elizabeth. "He is more likely waiting for the so-called opportune moment he is always talking about."

Elizabeth looked Will in the eye. "Like when I begin to walk down the aisle?"

Will did not respond. He just pulled her in for a kiss.

By Thalia Weaver
January 21, 2004

~ Red Sky ~

The sky was red, and the stars like teeth in a bloody mouth. The man that clung to the rigging of a black ship laughed, loud and long, a clear ringing sound.

"The captain´s back," Anamaria muttered, unable to keep a grin from her face. Crazy, this man; and yet she found she had missed his laugh more than anything. She kept her eyes on her ropes as he swung down.

"Aye, an´ mayhap the sky´ll be red come morning too," Jack said, his eyes unreadable; then grinned, his teeth flashing white against his dark face. "But it´s red tonight."

By EstelWolfe
January 28, 2004

~ Untitled 1~

"Red sky in morning, sailor's take warning . . ." Will whispered the words as he watched the sun rise, drenching the clouds in a crimson hue somewhat reminiscent of blood.

"What?" Elizabeth moved beside him, blinking hazily into the early-morning light. Will smiled, knowing that she wasn't used to rising with the sun.

"Just something my father wrote in one of his letters . . .Do you think Jack's all right?"

"Of course. He's got the Pearl."

Of course. Jack had his ship back, and, lack of news and superstitions be damned, that made everything right in his world.

By EstelWolfe
January 28, 2004

~ Untitled 2 ~

The sun sank in a blaze of glory, tracing each cloud in gold, turning the insides to a flaming, fiery red.

"Red sky at night, sailor's delight . . ." It was an old rhyme, one that most children who ever moved within sighting distance of water knew, that some sailors scoffed at and others swore by, as with all superstitions.

Was his prey watching the same sunset? Did the captain hear the same simple rhyme?

Did he believe it, if he knew it?

Or was all the red that he saw that of blood?

Elizabeth swore that wasn't true. She had made him listen to her, not by physical force, no, though she had seemed willing to try if he had made the mistake of walking away . . .but simply her demeanor, her need for him to hear her, had been enough to halt his retreat. She had told him, again and again, how Sparrow had saved her life
twice, how the ball that he put into Barbossa's heart was one he saved for ten years . . .how it would have been wasted if Turner hadn't acted . . .how he was a hero, an unlikely, unkempt hero . . .

And he couldn't help but listen to her, and, in some part of his mind, believe her. There was no need for Sparrow to save Elizabeth the first time, certainly no need the second time, not at such a personal expense. If he took life so lightly as most pirates, Brown and Turner would have been dead in the smithy, and the Pearl still sailed by her ghostly crew of the damned.

Then there was that look . . .that look that Elizabeth and Will hadn't been able to see, facing only the pirate's back . . .that look that simply would not leave his mind. It was the look that many men wore to the gallows, but one that had been missing from Sparrow's face there. It was . . .hopelessness, a hopelessness that cut deeper
than any sword wound as the pirate surveyed the water before him and saw that his ship was gone, that his crew had left him behind.

It was a look no one was ever meant to see, a hurt that should have been hidden from all eyes, would have been hidden from all eyes, if Galileo had not sought the stars and financed his journey with the spyglass.

For the first time in his life, James Norrington was beginning to wonder if he wanted to catch his prey at all.

The Commodore quickly shook the thought from his head and sighed. "No red mornings anytime soon for either of us, Lord."

It was an odd prayer, but it would do.

By Rennie
January 31, 2004

~ Sailor's Delight~

Alone at the helm, Jack gripped the Pearl’s wheel, the silken skin-worn smoothness of the wood delighting him, posing no barrier to sensing the power of his ship under his hands as she bore through the waves. Barren years without her, he had regained his freedom to sail to the horizons and beyond with her. As he glanced up to check the draw of the black sails, memories of other seas and climes flashed through his mind, exotic ports in Siam and India to the cold grey swells of the North Atlantic. The red horizon westward beckoned and he smiled.

~.~

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