The Inn of Jasper Shrine
The coast was rugged and storm-swept as
I battled it in the rain,
The cliffs reared up, then fell away
To a flat, deserted plain,
The sea beat up in a thunder on
The rocks that lined the shore,
When I saw the wreck of a wayside inn
And its open, swinging door.
It hadn't appeared on the map, I knew
As I'd studied the bleak terrain,
The thing that I'd come here looking for
Was a wreck from the Spanish Main,
It lay in fifteen fathoms there
With a load of gold moidores,
Chased inshore by a privateer
And sunk, so my uncle swore.
He'd come on some ancient manuscripts
And the log of the Brig ‘Despair',
Washed up a hundred years ago
On the coastline near Llan Fair,
It roamed the seas three hundred years
Without a crew or a sail,
The log said most of the crew were dead
Tipped out by a great white whale.
The bones of the Captain, Peverell,
Lay slumped, right over the log,
It told of the Spanish galleon
And where it went down in the fog,
It told how the whale had tipped the brig
And broken the mast in two,
While the rest of the men had died of thirst
As it drifted, with the crew.
I came to the shelter of the Inn
And could read the swinging sign,
It carried a skull and a bottle of rum
And a name, ‘The Jasper Shrine',
The door hung loose on its hinges and
Gave out a creak and a moan,
The wind howled in at the windows
As the timbers swayed and groaned.
The storm continued to rage outside
At least I was warm and dry,
I lay that night on the upper floor
And stared straight up at the sky,
The thatch had fallen in holes and rain
Came pouring down in a stream,
But I was tucked in a corner, dry,
And there I began to dream.
It must have been two o'clock or so
When I heard a ghostly tap,
Of someone shuffling with a crutch
Then a mighty thunderclap,
A lantern gave out a ghastly light
Threw shadows along the stair,
And then a woman, her voice rang out,
‘Oh what, and who is it there? '
I peered on down and could see the wench
Her bonnet trimmed with lace,
But the burly sailor standing there,
I couldn't quite see his face,
Their dress was that of another time
When pirates sailed the sea,
The sailor brought down his cane with a crash,
‘They call me Cap'n Teague.'
‘Some pottage girl, and a brace of rum
To warm this sailor's cheeks,
My ship's aground and my fate's undone
I'm stranded here for weeks! '
‘You'll need to show me the King's good coin
Before you bite or sup,
I've had you sailors before round here
And you're hard on paying up.'
‘I have a chest of dubloons, ' he said
Moidores, and Spanish lace,
My chest will be here in the morning, girl,
So lift your pretty face,
Shift and get me the vittals that
Will warm my aching bones…'
‘No rum, not even a little, '
Said the girl, and turned to go.
Teague had bellowed and crashed his cane
Across the wench's head,
She fell at the foot of the stairs, and groaned
As her bonnet turned blood red,
‘I'll serve myself you foolish wench
Do you dare to challenge me? '
But the girl had stirred, rolled over
And cried out, ‘By God, you'll see! '
She pulled from out the folds of her dress
An ancient matchlock gun,
Cocked the trigger then aimed and fired
As the Captain turned and spun,
He hit the floor with a cry of pain
And the lantern flew out wide,
The light went out, and all I could hear
Was the sound of the turning tide.
I hid for the rest of the night, afraid
To venture down the stair,
I was cautious still in the morning
Thinking I'd find them dead down there,
But nothing lay in the dawning light
But the sign of time's contempt,
The floor was littered in seaweed and
Some old rat excrement.
My friend came up in a trawler
As we'd planned in the weeks before,
I'd quit the Inn for the final time
Took off through the swinging door,
We never came on the Spanish ship
But the Inn played on my mind,
I wondered, was it a dream or a ghost
At the Inn of Jasper Shrine?
27 November 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Trove at Bioda Mor
The last I saw of Sebastian Fudge
He was dancing the hempen jig,
To pay for the years of pirating
At the side of Captain Kidd.
While Kidd was swung at Tilbury,
Was dipped in a coat of tar,
Then hung in chains by the River Thames
As a sign to the faint of heart!
I'd sailed with Fudge on the Emerald,
In the days when men were bold,
And there wasn't a Frenchman privateer
That we couldn't divest of gold,
I thought of the Spanish throats we'd cut
And the nights of rum and hock,
As Fudge went tripping his final jig
At Execution Dock.
That left just me and Jackie Straw,
Midshipman Bowes, and Penn,
The last of the Jolly Roger crew
Of the ships we'd sailed back then,
So we met at the back of Polly's place,
The One-Eyed Tar that night,
And drank to the soul of Fudge, and drank!
We drank to the broad daylight!
And Polly had joined us there at dawn
The tears still on her face,
She'd been with Fudge, his faithful Moll,
As he swung with little grace:
'He scribbled a map for me, ' she said,
'I've kept it safely hid,
We could have collected the treasure trove
If he hadn't sailed with Kidd! '
'Belay that, let us see the map! '
Said Straw, his eyes ablaze,
And I caught a glimpse of his cutlass raised
In the raiding party days,
But 'Aye', said Penn, 'there's gold enough
And a chest of jewels each,
If we follow the trail of the castaways,
And the gold of Captain Teach! '
'You and your Caribbean gold,
I have no mind for that,
Rather a treasure close at hand,
It's marked on Fudge's map! '
Polly drew out a parchment then
A map of Scotland's shore,
The wreck of the Magdalena marked
By the cliffs at Bioda Mor.
'It's there, in the Outer Hebrides,
An Island known as Dun,
The Galleon sailed beneath an arch,
An arch of solid stone!
The masts then brought it crashing down
It crippled the Magdalena,
They drifted on to Bioda Mor
With no-one there to save her! '
We set our sails for the Hebrides
In a sloop, Jack Straw and Bowes,
And Polly, lodged in the cabin below
With a pile of women's clothes,
While Penn was up in the Crows Nest,
Skin tight with a quart of rum,
To keep the cold from his aging bones
On watch for the Isle of Dun.
The morning saw the cliffs rear up
And scrape the greying sky,
I'd never seen cliffs as high as this,
'And nor, ' said Straw, 'have I! '
The waves swept in to a pebbled beach
From a swell of twenty feet,
'We'll never land in a longboat there,
That landing's out of reach! '
Polly attached herself to Bowes
While Straw looked on in hate,
He's fancied his chance with Fudge's Moll
But she'd gone with Fudge's mate,
She told me once in a whisper there
That she didn't trust Jack Straw,
And Penn was a little too close to him,
She kept a gun in her drawer.
I watched them all, I knew too well
What greed could do to a crew,
I'd seen with the best of shipboard mates
What a handful of gold could do,
So I kept myself to myself as we
Sailed round to the other shore,
And landed there on the leeward side,
Across from Bioda Mor.
We trudged around by the coast, the cliffs
Were far too high to scale,
It took us the rest of the day, I saw
That Polly was looking pale,
She wanted to quit, and rest awhile,
But Straw kept pushing along,
And Bowes brought up in the rear, I knew
He was carrying Polly's gun!
The wind came up, the breakers crashed,
We kept close by the cliff,
The beach was a solid shingle there
With piles of kelp, and drift,
We came to the mouth of a hidden cave
And sought the quiet depths,
The sea swept in as the tide had turned
And it made us catch our breath.
Inside the cave was a pile of gold
That covered the rocky floor,
And everywhere was the glint of gems,
Of diamonds, rubies, more...
I saw the glittering eyes of Straw
As he scooped the gold moidores,
'There's gold enough for everyone! '
'Not so! ' said Mr. Bowes.
He'd pulled the gun, and covered us
As I knew he would, I guess,
And Polly stooped as she gathered up
The coins in her flowing dress,
'There's only two will be leaving here
Alive, ' she said, 'and free! '
'Who'll be the first to die, ' she said,
And Bowes had looked at me!
I took the cup and I threw the dice,
They fell to a handy deuce,
'That puts me behind a rock, and safe, '
I laughed: 'I've cooked your goose! '
Then Sandra's Mum marched in and said:
'Okay, you lot, it's time...'
For she was only eleven then,
And the rest of us were nine!
We groaned, but packed the counters up,
Took one last look at the board,
'I would have snatched the gun, I think, '
Said Bill, who'd played Jack Straw.
'I would have shot you first, ' said Joe,
We shivered there in the cold,
And folded the board, regretfully,
Of the game called 'Spanish Gold! '
6 August 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tattooed Man
He looked like a common sailor
As he wandered up from the port,
Carried his swag on his shoulder,
Wore a cap of the jaunty sort,
His eyes were livid and bloodshot,
Staring, under a tattooed brow,
And on his cheeks, a scatter of stars
As seen from an old ship's prow.
He stopped at the Mariners Arms
And bought a room on the upper floor,
Went out and stood on the balcony,
And stared on down at the square,
He'd left his shirt in the tiny room,
His torso, full in view,
There wasn't an inch of his sailor skin
Untouched by a bright tattoo.
His arms were covered in serpents
Writhing up, and under his chin,
His shoulders, Chinese Characters,
Of Ports, where he might have been,
His sides were covered in fungi
Found in tropical forest glades,
And down on his muscular midriff
The ubiquitous Queen of Spades.
And there on his chest in colours
Very subtle, and so refined,
There lay a naked woman
Baring all as she lay reclined,
Her lips were coloured in scarlet gloss
And pursed in a sensual pout,
Her eyes a searching, brilliant blue
That would find her lover out.
He turned away from the village square
And rested back on the rail,
So now the tattoos across his back
Could be seen... a Schooner's sail,
With storm-filled clouds and a rising swell
As the breakers slid on by,
And over the top, above it all
A piercing, staring eye!
For every passer-by that stared
The eye had stared them back,
Had stared right into the guilty soul
Where every sin was black!
And hairs rose up on the back of the neck,
And shivers ran down the spine,
As guilt drove men to the 'Man of War'
To drown their fears in wine!
And I... I came to the Mariners Arms
And I saw the tattoos there,
And the woman, bared on the sailor's chest
Made me quake and shake in fear,
For the face was unmistakable,
I had left her safe at home,
That face of lust was the woman I trust,
Was the wife I knew as Joan.
For days the sailor prowled the streets
And he peered through windows there,
But he never wore a shirt nor coat,
And he kept his torso bare,
The tattoos seemed to come to life
As he moved, they moved with him,
I saw the serpents flickering tongues
Reach out, and under his chin!
And from his back, the eye stared out
Made strong men weak and quail,
Their knees gave way as it stared them down
And they felt their courage fail,
Then Joan saw him in the market place,
And stood there, hypnotized,
As she stared at the face on the sailor's chest,
And he pierced her, with his eyes.
I saw her enter the Mariners Arms
And I tried to call her back,
But she walked like one in a crazy dream
And I heard her call him, 'Jack...'
They disappeared up the stairway,
Made their way to the upper floor,
I had raced to the top of the stairs when they
Went in, and locked the door.
Out in the street, the clouds rolled in
And the sea beat up on the shore,
The rain came down in a torrent,
Lightning flashed at the old Inn door,
Then he came out on the balcony,
Turned round, and showed his back,
Clung to the mast of the Schooner
There was a woman, dressed in black!
I followed the sailor down the street
In the wind and the pouring rain,
As lightning lit the storm on his back
And the woman screamed in pain,
But on his chest was an open space
And the eye had stared me down,
As he boarded a battered Schooner,
And then sailed away from the town!
24 August 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Her Go Down
Sometime in October
we sailed from England's shore
When we sailed into a raging storm
like I never ever seen before
And all of the crew they were brave men
but the captain he was braver
and he said
"Never mind the ship me boys
There's none of us here can save her"
Let her go down Swim for your lives
Swim for your children swim for your wives
Let her go down Let her go down
Lost in the open ocean
there was some of the crew and me
while the captain steered our wounded ship
to the bottom of an angry sea
And with his dying breath
we all heard him say
"It's just the fortune of sailor"
and he said
"Never mind the ship me boys
There's none of us here can save her"
chorus
He wondered if his shipmates
were ready to just pray and give in
so he called their names out one by one
but there was no one else around but him
He saw the ship go down the fading light
and he knew that they could have saved her
He said
"The captain lied when the captain cried
'There's none of us here can save her' "
chorus
Swim for your lives
Swim for your children swim for your wives
Let her go down Let her go down
Swim for your lives
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last of the Narwhale
THE STORY OF AN ARCTIC NIP.
AY, ay, I'll tell you, shipmates,
If you care to hear the tale,
How myself and the royal yard alone
Were left of the old Narwhale.
'A stouter ship was never launched
Of all the Clyde-built whalers;
And forty years of a life at sea
Haven't matched her crowd of sailors.
Picked men they were, all young and strong,
And used to the wildest seas,
From Donegal and the Scottish coast,
And the rugged Hebrides.
Such men as women cling to, mates,
Like ivy round their lives:
And the day we sailed, the quays were lined
With weeping mothers and wives.
They cried and prayed, and we gave 'em a cheer,
In the thoughtless way of men;
God help them, shipmates—thirty years
They've waited and prayed since then.
'We sailed to the North, and I mind it well,
The pity we felt, and pride
When we sighted the cliffs of Labrador
From the sea where Hudson died.
We talked of ships that never came back,
And when the great floes passed,
Like ghosts in the night, each moonlit peak
Like a great war frigate's mast,
'Twas said that a ship was frozen up
In the iceberg's awful breast,
The clear ice holding the sailor's face
As he lay in his mortal rest.
And I've thought since then, when the ships came home
That sailed for the Franklin band,
A mistake was made in the reckoning
That looked for the crews on land.
'They're floating still,' I've said to myself,
'And Sir John has found the goal;
The Erebus and the Terror, mates,
Are icebergs up at the Pole!'
'We sailed due North, to Baffin's Bay,
And cruised through weeks of light;
'Twas always day, and we slept by the bell,
And longed for the dear old night,
And the blessed darkness left behind,
Like a curtain round the bed;
But a month dragged on like an afternoon
With the wheeling sun o'erhead.
We found the whales were farther still,
The farther north we sailed;
Along the Greenland glacier coast,
The boldest might have quailed,
Such shapes did keep us company;
No sail in all that sea,
But thick as ships in Mersey's tide
The bergs moved awfully
Within the current's northward stream;
But, ere the long day' s close,
We found the whales and filled the ship
Amid the friendly floes.
'Then came a rest: the day was blown
Like a cloud before the night;
In the South the sun went redly down —
In the North rose another light,
Neither sun nor moon, but a shooting dawn,
That silvered our lonely way;
It seemed we sailed in a belt of gloom,
Upon either side, a day.
The north wind smote the sea to death;
The pack-ice closed us round —
The Narwhale stood in the level fields
As fast as a ship aground.
A weary time it was to wait,
And to wish for spring to come,
With the pleasant breeze and the blessed sun,
To open the way toward home.
'Spring came at last, the ice-fields groaned
Like living things in pain;
They moaned and swayed, then rent amain,
And the Narwhale sailed again.
With joy the dripping sails were loosed
And round the vessel swung;
To cheer the crew, full south she drew,
The shattered floes among.
We had no books in those old days
To carry the friendly faces;
But I think the wives and lasses then
Were held in better places.
The face of sweetheart and wife to-day
Is locked in the sailor's chest:
But aloft on the yard, with the thought of home,
The face in the heart was best.
Well, well—God knows, mates, when and where
To take the things he gave;
We steered for home—but the chart was his,
And the port ahead—the grave!
'We cleared the floes: through an open sea
The Narwhale south'ard sailed,
Till a day came round when the white fog rose,
And the wind astern had failed.
In front of the Greenland glacier line,
And close to its base were we;
Through the misty pall we could see the wall
That beetled above the sea.
A fear like the fog crept over our hearts
As we heard the hollow roar
Of the deep sea thrashing the cliffs of ice
For leagues along the shore.
'The years have come and the years have gone,
But it never wears away—
The sense I have of the sights and sounds
That marked that woeful day.
Flung here and there at the ocean's will,
As it flung the broken floe—
What strength had we 'gainst the tiger sea
That sports with a sailor's woe?
The lifeless berg and the lifeful ship
Were the same to the sullen wave,
As it swept them far from ridge to ridge,
Till at last the Narwhale drave
With a crashing rail on the glacier wall—
As sheer as the vessel's mast—
A crashing rail and a shivered yard;
But the worst, we thought, was past.
The brave lads sprang to the fending work,
And the skipper's voice rang hard:
'Aloft there, one with a ready knife—
Cut loose that royal yard!'
I sprang to the rigging, young I was,
And proud to be first to dare:
The yard swung free, and I turned to gaze
Toward the open sea, o'er the field of haze,
And my heart grew cold, as if frozen through,
At the moving shape that met my view—
O Christ! what a sight was there!
'Above the fog, as I hugged the yard,
I saw that an iceberg lay—
A berg like a mountain, closing fast—
Not a cable's length away!
I could not see through the sheet of mist
That covered all below,
But I heard the cheery voices still,
And I screamed to let them know.
The cry went down, and the skipper hailed,
But before the word could come
It died in his throat—and I knew they saw
The shape of the closing doom!
'No sound but that—but the hail that died
Came up through the mist to me;
Thank God, it covered the ship like a veil,
And I was not forced to see—
But I heard it, mates: O, I heard the rush,
And the timbers rend and rive,
As the yard I clung to swayed and fell:— I lay on the ice, alive!
Alive! O God of mercy! ship and crew and sea were gone!
The hummocked ice and the broken yard,
And a kneeling man—alone!
'A kneeling man on a frozen hill,
The sounds of life in the air—
All death and ice—and a minute before
The sea and the ship were there!
I could not think they were dead and gone,
And I listened for sound or word:
But the deep sea roar on the desolate shore
Was the only sound I heard.
O mates, I had no heart to thank
The Lord for the life He gave;
I spread my arms on the ice and cried
Aloud on my shipmates' grave.
The brave strong lads, with their strength all vain,
I called them name by name;
And it seemed to me from the dying hearts
A message upward came—
Ay, mates, a message, up through the ice
From every sailor's breast:
'Go tell our mothers and wives at home
To pray for us here at rest.'
'Yes, that's what it means; 'tis a little word;
But, mates, the strongest ship
That ever was built is a baby's toy
When it copes with an Arctic Nip.'
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mystic Selvagee
Perhaps already you may know
SIR BLENNERHASSET PORTICO?
A Captain in the Navy, he -
A Baronet and K.C.B.
You do? I thought so!
It was that Captain's favourite whim
(A notion not confined to him)
That RODNEY was the greatest tar
Who ever wielded capstan-bar.
He had been taught so.
"BENBOW! CORNWALLIS! HOOD! - Belay!
Compared with RODNEY" - he would say -
"No other tar is worth a rap!
The great LORD RODNEY was the chap
The French to polish!
"Though, mind you, I respect LORD HOOD;
CORNWALLIS, too, was rather good;
BENBOW could enemies repel,
LORD NELSON, too, was pretty well -
That is, tol-lol-ish!"
SIR BLENNERHASSET spent his days
In learning RODNEY'S little ways,
And closely imitated, too,
His mode of talking to his crew -
His port and paces.
An ancient tar he tried to catch
Who'd served in RODNEY'S famous batch;
But since his time long years have fled,
And RODNEY'S tars are mostly dead:
EHEU FUGACES!
But after searching near and far,
At last he found an ancient tar
Who served with RODNEY and his crew
Against the French in 'Eighty-two,
(That gained the peerage).
He gave him fifty pounds a year,
His rum, his baccy, and his beer;
And had a comfortable den
Rigged up in what, by merchantmen,
Is called the steerage.
"Now, JASPER" - 't was that sailor's name -
"Don't fear that you'll incur my blame
By saying, when it seems to you,
That there is anything I do
That RODNEY wouldn't."
The ancient sailor turned his quid,
Prepared to do as he was bid:
"Ay, ay, yer honour; to begin,
You've done away with 'swifting in' -
Well, sir, you shouldn't!
"Upon your spars I see you've clapped
Peak halliard blocks, all iron-capped.
I would not christen that a crime,
But 'twas not done in RODNEY'S time.
It looks half-witted!
Upon your maintop-stay, I see,
You always clap a selvagee!
Your stays, I see, are equalized -
No vessel, such as RODNEY prized,
Would thus be fitted!
"And RODNEY, honoured sir, would grin
To see you turning deadeyes in,
Not UP, as in the ancient way,
But downwards, like a cutter's stay -
You didn't oughter;
Besides, in seizing shrouds on board,
Breast backstays you have quite ignored;
Great RODNEY kept unto the last
Breast backstays on topgallant mast -
They make it tauter."
SIR BLENNERHASSET "swifted in,"
Turned deadeyes up, and lent a fin
To strip (as told by JASPER KNOX)
The iron capping from his blocks,
Where there was any.
SIR BLENNERHASSET does away,
With selvagees from maintop-stay;
And though it makes his sailors stare,
He rigs breast backstays everywhere -
In fact, too many.
One morning, when the saucy craft
Lay calmed, old JASPER toddled aft.
"My mind misgives me, sir, that we
Were wrong about that selvagee -
I should restore it."
"Good," said the Captain, and that day
Restored it to the maintop-stay.
Well-practised sailors often make
A much more serious mistake,
And then ignore it.
Next day old JASPER came once more:
"I think, sir, I was right before."
Well, up the mast the sailors skipped,
The selvagee was soon unshipped,
And all were merry.
Again a day, and JASPER came:
"I p'r'aps deserve your honour's blame,
I can't make up my mind," said he,
"About that cursed selvagee -
It's foolish - very.
"On Monday night I could have sworn
That maintop-stay it should adorn,
On Tuesday morning I could swear
That selvagee should not be there.
The knot's a rasper!"
"Oh, you be hanged," said CAPTAIN P.,
"Here, go ashore at Caribbee.
Get out - good bye - shove off - all right!"
Old JASPER soon was out of sight -
Farewell, old JASPER!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Close to the Edge
My father was a sailor
He was always off the shore,
And I’d watch his sailboat ‘Ransom’
As it gaff-rigged past our door,
And he told me – ‘When you’re old enough
I’ll show you where they dwell,
The mermaids, with their necklaces,
Made out of cockleshells!
Then out on the verandah
He would stare straight out to sea,
Where the sun meets the horizon
Then he’d sit me on his knee,
And he’d tell me tales of Morgan,
Tales of Captain Kidd and Co.,
When they roamed the Caribbean
In the days of long ago.
He would sail out in the summer,
He would sail out in the fall,
He would sail to the horizon
In the mist, and through a squall,
And he always took his bo’sun
‘Shifty’ Dick, who trimmed the sail,
Drank the ‘Ransom’ dry of whiskey,
Lashed his wrist, hard to the rail.
Then one winter, storm capped waters
Beat unceasing on our shore,
And my mother lit the lantern
Kept a vigil by the door.
But the ‘Ransom’ kept its secrets
Never came to shore again,
And my father joined the history
Of all seafaring men!
I grew and took my lessons
In a little trailer-sail,
When my mother wasn’t watching;
She would cry, and she would wail:
‘Don’t you ever let me catch you,
Staring, looking at the sea,
It’s enough I lost your father…’
‘Never fret! You won’t lose me! ’
For years I watched them leaving,
All the magic sailing boats,
Some were worth a clear million,
While some could barely float!
I watched as they sailed out, and then
I watched on their return,
But some were lost forever,
Sunk – Exploded - Overturned!
I bought a gaff-rigged schooner,
It had seen far better days,
But I patched it and I painted it,
I called it the ‘Sea Haze’;
I took it out with friends -
We didn’t venture out too far -
But learnt to jib, and trim the sail,
To run along the shore!
Then finally I headed out
To where it all began,
Beyond the far horizon
Where the ‘Ransom’ cut and ran,
The clouds began to gather
And the shades began to steal,
The waves broke on the forward deck
And I clung to the wheel.
The storm clouds that had gathered
Opened up and thundered rain,
It beat upon the masthead, and it
Lashed the sagging main,
It soaked my tiny cabin and it
Churned the heaving sea,
The waves on the horizon
Lay in wait out there, for me!
I sailed right through some warp of space
Or time, or so it seemed,
For then it was I caught a sight
Out there – a Quinquereme!
The rows of oars were stilled, I saw,
But some unholy moan,
Broke through the madness of the storm
And chilled me to the bone!
And then I saw a Galleass,
And then I saw a tramp,
To port there was a Brigantine
To starboard there, a lamp!
A single lamp to light the way
I took my bearings then,
No sign of a horizon there,
I sailed toward the end!
The sea, it fell away just there
And all I saw was space,
The ancients said the earth was flat,
My heart began to race.
A thousand ships lay still out there
A Cruiser, Barque, a Dredge!
They’d sailed in space there since the day
They sailed right off the edge!
The ‘Sea Haze’ raced along a line
Just inches from dismay,
I turned the wheel to head back home,
To live another day,
And then I saw the ‘Ransom’ turning
Slowly in the sky,
While ‘Shifty’ Dick, still tethered,
Floated wide and still and dry!
The ‘Sea Haze’ sits at anchor still
Just out from my back door,
She sank a dozen years ago,
Sat down, hard on the shore.
I never stare out at the sea,
The sea I thought I knew,
For who’d believe the earth was flat?
That’s right! – Not even you!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fear
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
A horse's hoof pawed once the hollow floor,
And the back of the gig they stood beside
Moved in a little. The man grasped a wheel,
The woman spoke out sharply, 'Whoa, stand still!'
'I saw it just as plain as a white plate,'
She said, 'as the light on the dashboard ran
Along the bushes at the roadside-a man's face.
You must have seen it too.'
'I didn't see it.
Are you sure--'
'Yes, I'm sure!'
'-it was a face?'
'Joel, I'll have to look. I can't go in,
I can't, and leave a thing like that unsettled.
Doors locked and curtains drawn will make no difference.
I always have felt strange when we came home
To the dark house after so long an absence,
And the key rattled loudly into place
Seemed to warn someone to be getting out
At one door as we entered at another.
What if I'm right, and someone all the time-
Don't hold my arm!'
'I say it's someone passing.'
'You speak as if this were a travelled road.
You forget where we are. What is beyond
That he'd be going to or coming from
At such an hour of night, and on foot too.
What was he standing still for in the bushes?'
'It's not so very late-it's only dark.
There's more in it than you're inclined to say.
Did he look like--?'
'He looked like anyone.
I'll never rest to-night unless I know.
Give me the lantern.'
'You don't want the lantern.'
She pushed past him and got it for herself.
'You're not to come,' she said. 'This is my business.
If the time's come to face it, I'm the one
To put it the right way. He'd never dare-
Listen! He kicked a stone. Hear that, hear that!
He's coming towards us. Joel, go in-please.
Hark!-I don't hear him now. But please go in.'
'In the first place you can't make me believe it's--'
'It is-or someone else he's sent to watch.
And now's the time to have it out with him
While we know definitely where he is.
Let him get off and he'll be everywhere
Around us, looking out of trees and bushes
Till I sha'n't dare to set a foot outdoors.
And I can't stand it. Joel, let me go!'
'But it's nonsense to think he'd care enough.'
'You mean you couldn't understand his caring.
Oh, but you see he hadn't had enough-
Joel, I won't-I won't-I promise you.
We mustn't say hard things. You mustn't either.'
'I'll be the one, if anybody goes!
But you give him the advantage with this light.
What couldn't he do to us standing here!
And if to see was what he wanted, why
He has seen all there was to see and gone.'
He appeared to forget to keep his hold,
But advanced with her as she crossed the grass.
'What do you want?' she cried to all the dark.
She stretched up tall to overlook the light
That hung in both hands hot against her skirt.
'There's no one; so you're wrong,' he said.
'There is.-
What do you want?' she cried, and then herself
Was startled when an answer really came.
'Nothing.' It came from well along the road.
She reached a hand to Joel for support:
The smell of scorching woollen made her faint.
'What are you doing round this house at night?'
'Nothing.' A pause: there seemed no more to say.
And then the voice again: 'You seem afraid.
I saw by the way you whipped up the horse.
I'll just come forward in the lantern light
And let you see.'
'Yes, do.-Joel, go back!'
She stood her ground against the noisy steps
That came on, but her body rocked a little.
'You see,' the voice said.
'Oh.' She looked and looked.
'You don't see-I've a child here by the hand.'
'What's a child doing at this time of night--?'
'Out walking. Every child should have the memory
Of at least one long-after-bedtime walk.
What, son?'
'Then I should think you'd try to find
Somewhere to walk--'
'The highway as it happens-
We're stopping for the fortnight down at Dean's.'
'But if that's all-Joel-you realize-
You won't think anything. You understand?
You understand that we have to be careful.
This is a very, very lonely place.
Joel!' She spoke as if she couldn't turn.
The swinging lantern lengthened to the ground,
It touched, it struck it, clattered and went out.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Monster & Captain Kreel
We were out in the North Atlantic
When the storm began to blow,
We reefed in the tops and gallants so
We wouldn't end down below,
The ship was tossed in a fury,
The mate was strapped to the wheel,
There wasn't a dry man left aboard,
Not even Captain Kreel.
The Captain, he was a bully,
He would flog 'til his arm was sore,
He drove the men at their stations 'til
They couldn't have taken more,
He kept a rope at the yardarm,
A warning to every man,
His word was not to be questioned if
A tar didn't want to hang!
Each wave was a liquid mountain
That crashed on the after deck,
The wind was a screaming banshee that
Would threaten, despair and wreck,
When out from below there came a scream,
A woman, so fair of face,
But the Captain swore an ugly oath
That the ship was in disgrace!
The wife of an able seaman,
He'd smuggled the girl aboard,
He'd thought he could keep her hidden there
Until they went ashore,
But the men with their superstitions
Then blamed her for the storm,
They seized her, dragged to the gunnels
And would hurry her overboard!
The Captain barked out an order,
The jack tars staggered back,
They wouldn't defy their Captain if
The ship was under attack!
The mate then seized the woman
And bared her at the breast,
Turned her to face the heaving sea
As she stood there, half undressed.
Bare breasted, like the figurehead
They carried on the prow,
A woman was known to calm the seas
If she shamed its gods somehow,
The wind died down in the stays and yards
And the sea died down as well,
But she little knew as she covered up
She approached the gates of hell!
The seaman was court-martialled,
Up there, on the quarter deck,
Where the Captain gave no quarter,
It was keel haul, or his neck!
They tied the rope around his chest
And flung him overboard,
We heaved on the rope, and prayed he'd hold
His breath 'til he came aboard.
We dragged him under the water,
And felt him under the keel,
The rope was a little bit lighter
Than the brow of Captain Kreel,
For he was a livid monster
Who just wanted the seaman dead,
His plans for the wife were plain to see
As he sent her to his bed!
The seaman's body surfaced,
It wasn't going well,
We hauled him over the side of the ship
'Til we caught a glimpse of hell,
The rope was knotted about his chest
And twisted around his neck,
There was nothing at all below the waist,
As his entrails sprayed the deck!
Even the Captain blanched at this
But he motioned us away,
'Toss the remains all overboard
Then swab the decks - Belay! '
We wondered how Jones was cut in half,
It couldn't have been the keel,
But kept our mutterings to ourselves,
For fear of the monster, Kreel.
Out on the starboard side we saw
A giant head appear,
Just as the body hit the waves
It reared, and sniffed the air,
Then pounced on the human morsel,
Picked it up in its savage jaw,
As we shrank on back at its evil eye
It gave out a primitive roar.
There wasn't a moment from then on
We weren't all chilled inside,
The monster followed and circled us
As we rode the heaving tide,
It must have been eighty feet or more,
A great, carnivorous beast,
The serpent had tasted human flesh
And we were a human feast!
The wind had dropped, the sails were limp,
We couldn't sail for home,
We were caught in the theme of a nightmare dream
Where the beasts of the world could roam,
The Captain kept to his cabin then,
We could hear the woman plead,
With a monster within, a monster without
We were caught in a monstrous creed.
'It's all the fault of that woman there! '
I knew what the ratings thought,
'We need to be throwing her overboard
To escape the luck she brought! '
The mate came down and roused them out,
'There'll be no talk of this,
We have to get under sail tonight
When the wind begins to rise.'
The Captain showed on the quarter-deck
Just after the seventh bell,
The sun was down in the west, the moon
Was riding high, as well.
We raised the sails as the shadows loomed,
Unfurled topgallant stays,
I was watching the Captain against the moon
His back to the after rail.
The serpent's head loomed large above
The figure of Captain Kreel,
The hairs rose up on the back of my neck
As I watched the shadows steal.
It opened up with its mighty jaw
Clamped down on the Captain's head,
Lifted him clear of the quarter deck
As he screamed - 'Oh God! I'm dead! '
We never saw Captain Kreel again,
But nobody seemed to care,
We sailed for the Falkland Islands then,
And we left the woman there,
I heard she married again, sometime,
To a sailor known as Kip,
And dreams of her home in Pompey, but -
They won't let her onto a ship!
24 December 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shipwrecked
When at Crete a gentle south wind began to blow
We weighed anchor deciding it was time to go
But a wind began to blow of hurricane force
A 'Northeaster' sprang up and blew us way off course
Then giving way to the strong wind we sailed along
And we passed ropes under the ship to make it strong
But because we feared the ship would soon run aground
We cast overboard the cargo that could be found
No sun or stars shone during any night or day
And the storm just kept raging on to our dismay
So awful was the great tempest that we had braved
We had given up hope of ever being saved
After fourteen nights in the Adriatic Sea
We took soundings to find out where the land could be
And measuring fifteen fathoms began to fear
That we'd be dashed against the rocks and disappear
So four anchors were dropped as we all prayed for day
But some of the sailors began to sneak away
They were lowering the lifeboat into the sea
But the soldiers slashed the ropes to let it go free
Then an angel appeared to me during the night
And told me that all those on board would be alright
That no-one would lose even a hair from their head
So we all gave thanks together and broke some bread
All two hundred and seventy six ate their fill
And threw the rest of the grain overboard until
At dawn daylight came to everyone's delight
And we were so relieved to see land in our sight
But when sailing to the shore a sandbank was struck
And to our great dismay we became firmly stuck
Cutting loose the anchors which sank into the sea
But the bow was wedged firm and could not be worked free
'Let us kill all the prisoners' the soldiers said
Praise God the centurion did not want me dead
So those that could swim were told to jump overboard
All the rest floated ashore on pieces of wood
Crew and passengers made it safely to the shore
And were so thankful to be safe on land once more
So log fires were lit and we were soon warmed and dried
Everyone had been saved and none had died
The Storm
The clouds turned to gray
The air turned to cold
And I knew by that day
Some evil would unfold.
It arrived without a warning
Along with the pounding rain
And it was gone by the morning
As violently as it came.
But for that night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
Violently came the wind
Terrorizing with no form
Then came the thunder and lightning,
Arriving, was the storm.
Many trees I saw bent
Then God clapped his mighty hand
While many trees were refusing to fall,
But then, a tree didn't stand.
Rushing came the wind
Pounding came the rain
Crashing came the thunder
Quickly, came my pain.
Underneath my bed I hid
From the terror of the storm
And in pain and terror I cried
In horror and pain I moaned.
That night I lived in terror
That night I lived in fright
With every sound I heard
With every flash of light.
And the rain just kept falling
More tears I began to weep
For the wind just kept calling,
Then that night; I fell asleep.
Then morning she finally came
I awoke to the sound of peace and birds
The sound of thunder and rain was gone
Which had awoke my sleeping world.
Then outside towards the sky I stared,
To the clouds God he did call
I saw Gods hand moving the wind
Commanding the rain not to fall.
Then the sun began to shine
So on my knees I fell to pray
Then again, I began to cry
Thanking God; the storm had went away.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Musician's Tale; The Ballad of Carmilhan - II.
The jolly skipper paused awhile,
And then again began;
'There is a Spectre Ship,' quoth he,
'A ship of the Dead that sails the sea,
And is called the Carmilhan.
'A ghostly ship, with a ghostly crew,
In tempests she appears;
And before the gale, or against the gale,
She sails without a rag of sail,
Without a helmsman steers.
'She haunts the Atlantic north and south,
But mostly the mid-sea,
Where three great rocks rise bleak and bare
Like furnace-chimneys in the air,
And are called the Chimneys Three.
'And ill betide the luckless ship
That meets the Carmilhan;
Over her decks the seas will leap,
She must go down into the deep,
And perish mouse and man.'
The captain of the Valdemar
Laughed loud with merry heart.
'I should like to see this ship,' said he;
'I should like to find these Chimneys Three,
That are marked down in the chart.
'I have sailed right over the spot,' he said
'With a good stiff breeze behind,
When the sea was blue, and the sky was clear,--
You can follow my course by these pinholes here,--
And never a rock could find.'
And then he swore a dreadful oath,
He swore by the Kingdoms Three,
That, should he meet the Carmilhan,
He would run her down, although he ran
Right into Eternity!
All this, while passing to and fro,
The cabin-boy had heard;
He lingered at the door to hear,
And drank in all with greedy ear,
And pondered every word.
He was a simple country lad,
But of a roving mind.
'Oh, it must be like heaven,' thought he,
'Those far-off foreign lands to see,
And fortune seek and find!'
But in the fo'castle, when he heard
The mariners blaspheme,
He thought of home, he thought of God,
And his mother under the churchyard sod,
And wished it were a dream.
One friend on board that ship had he;
T was the Klaboterman,
Who saw the Bible in his chest,
And made a sign upon his breast,
All evil things to ban.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Jonas Psalter
Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by james young
When captain jonas psalter
Sailed his ship to sea
Anne bonny kept him company
The skull and crossbones flew
Above the ocean blue
The captains men where a pirates crew
The ships they sought to take
Were of the spanish main
A gift from ferdinand of spain
And though you rob and kill to find your dream
Your crimes are hardly what they seem
Tortuga held the treasure of a thousand kings
So jonas planned to steal everything
Two hundred men stood guard
Around the fortunes nest
But psalters steel slew all the rest
And when the smoke had cleared
And bloody bodies lay
Everyone could hear the minstrel play
Woo woo jonas psalter
Youve captured every prize
There is to dream of in one life
And so we wonder why
We found you in your bed
With that bullet in your head
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wreck of the Hesperus
It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wint'ry sea;
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.
Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds
That ope in the month of May.
The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,
And watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now West, now South.
Then up and spake an old Sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish Main,
"I pray thee put into yonder port,
For I fear a hurricane.
"Last night, the moon had a golden ring,
And tonight no moon we see!"
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the North-east;
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.
Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.
"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,
And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow."
He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.
"O father! I hear the church-bells ring,
O say what may it be?"
"'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"
And he steered for the open sea.
"O father! I hear the sound of guns,
O say what may it be?"
"Some ship in distress, that cannot live
In such an angry sea!"
"O father! I see a gleaming light,
O say what may it be?"
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.
Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.
Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed
That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ who stilled the wave
On the Lake of Galilee.
And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Towards the reef of Norman's Woe.
And ever the fitful gusts between
A sound came from the land;
It was the sound of the trampling surf,
On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.
The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.
She struck where the white and fleecy waves
Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her sides
Like the horns of an angry bull.
Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank,
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!
At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair
Lashed close to a drifting mast.
The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed,
On the billows fall and rise.
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,
In the midnight and the snow!
Christ save us all from a death like this
On the reef of Norman's Woe!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Eternal Youth
I was travelling through a countryside
That I'd never seen before,
As it grew dark, the mountainsides
Loomed threatening, over my car,
The cloud hung low in a louring sky
And my headlights cut through the gloom,
Ahead on the twisting, bending road
I had hopes of a cosy room.
There wasn't a house or a farm out there,
The valley was threading down,
The deeper it went, the darker yet
With still no sign of a town,
I thought that I'd have to drive all night
And my eyes were growing dim,
When back in the trees, I saw a light
And a sign: ‘The Dew Drop Inn'.
I pulled at the bell for the Publican
And I heard a shuffle inside,
A shadow loomed, and the hinges creaked
And the door swung open wide,
A man so gaunt that his face was grey
And his sallow cheeks were thin,
Stood trembling in the doorway there
In the hall of the Dew Drop Inn! '
I followed him in, not saying a word,
He motioned me into the bar,
Then poured me a whiskey and water
While I stared at a glass topped jar,
It drew my gaze as I sipped my drink
For the contents bubbled and swirled,
And I said: ‘Just where is the Dew Drop Inn? '
He replied: ‘At the End of the World! '
His voice came bubbling out of his chest
Like the rasp of a rusty saw,
His hands were trembling, where they lay
And he kept his eyes on the door.
‘That jar, it changes its colours, look!
From red, through green and gold…'
He said: ‘They told me one sip from that
And a man would never grow old! '
I stared at him, and I saw him frown
With a tear at the edge of his eye,
This ancient man with the trembling hand
And I said: ‘Well, that was a lie! '
He shook his head and he turned to me
‘It depends what you want it for,
I was twenty-two when I took my sip…
I'm a hundred and sixty four! '
‘I didn't age for a hundred years
I revelled in youth, so long,
But suddenly I grew weary, thought
That there must have been something wrong!
I lost the zest for a youthful life,
Was beginning to feel my years,
All of my friends were dead and gone,
This life is a valley of tears! '
‘You're telling me that one sip from this
Will give me a hundred - True?
I'll still be fit and I'll still be strong,
At a hundred and thirty two? '
‘You will, but there's a condition
You must take on the Dew Drop Inn,
And stay in this cursèd valley then
‘Til a seeker of youth walks in! '
I'm standing behind the counter with
My eyes on the outer door,
I've stood like stone for forty years
And paced a track on the floor,
The Publican left, the moment I sipped
He went with a joyous cry,
In search of a path from the Dew Drop Inn
Where at last, he could finally die!
9 July 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intaglio - Frank Denz
In the roar of the storm, in the wild bitter voice of the tempest-whipped sea,
The cry of my darling, my child, comes ever and ever to me;
And I stand where the haggard-faced wood stares down on a sinister shore,
But all that is left is the hood of the babe I can cherish no more.
A little blue hood, with the shawl of the girl that I took for my wife
In a happy old season, is all that remains of the light of my life;
The wail of a woman in pain, and the sob of a smothering bird,
They come through the darkness again —
in the wind and the rain they are heard.
Oh, women and men who have known the perils of weather and wave,
It is sad that my sweet ones are blown under sea without shelter of grave;
I sob like a child in the night, when the gale on the waters is loud —
My darlings went down in my sight, with neither a coffin nor shroud.
In the whistle of wind, and the whirl of ominous fragments of wreck,
The wife, with her poor little girl, saw death on the lee of the deck;
But, sirs, she depended on me — she trusted my comforting word;
She is down in the depths of the sea — my love, with her beautiful bird.
In the boat I was ordered to go — I was not more afraid than the rest,
But a husband will falter, you know, with the love of his life at his breast;
My captain was angry a space, but soon he grew tender in tone —
Perhaps there had flashed by his face a wife and a child of his own.
I was weak for some moments, and cried; but only one hope was in life;
The hood upon baby I tied — I fastened the shawl on my wife.
The skipper took charge of the child — he stuck to his word till the last;
But only this hood on the wild, bitter shore of the sea had been cast.
In the place of a coward, who shook like a leaf in the quivering boat,
A seat by the rowlocks I took; but the sea had me soon by the throat,
The surge gripped me fast by the neck — in a ring, and a roll, and a roar,
I was cast like a piece of the wreck, on a bleak, beaten, shelterless shore.
And there were my darlings on board for the rest of that terrible day,
And I watched and I prayed to the Lord, as never before I could pray.
The windy hills stared at the black, heavy clouds coming over the wave;
My girl was expecting me back, but where was my power to save?
Ah! where was my power, when Death was glaring at me from the reef?
I cried till I gasped for my breath, aloof with a maddening grief.
We couldn’t get back to the deck: I wanted to go, but the sea
Dashed over the sides of the wreck, and carried my darling from me.
Oh, girl that I took by the hand to the altar two summers ago,
I would you were buried on land — my dear, it would comfort me so!
I would you were sleeping where grows the grass and the musical reed!
For how can you find a repose in the toss of the tangle and weed?
The night sped along, and I strained to the shadow and saw to the end
My captain and bird — he remained to the death a superlative friend:
In the face of the hurricane wild, he clung with the babe to the mast;
To the last he was true to my child — he was true to my child to the last.
The wind, like a life without home, comes mocking at door and at pane
In the time of the cry of the foam — in the season of thunder and rain,
And, dreaming, I start in the bed, and feel for my little one’s brow —
But lost is the beautiful head; the cradle is tenantless now!
My home was all morning and glow when wife and her baby were there,
But, ah! it is saddened, you know, by dresses my girl used to wear.
I cannot re-enter the door; its threshold can never be crossed,
For fear I should see on the floor the shoes of the child I have lost.
There were three of us once in the world; but two are deep down in the sea,
Where waif and where tangle are hurled — the two that were portions of me;
They are far from me now, but I hear, when hushed are the night and the tide,
The voice of my little one near — the step of my wife by my side.
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad Of Rose Red
Rose Red was the name they gave her
because of her flaming hair.
She grew up in a time of turmoil
where children were taken from their beds.
When her only son was stolen and butchered,
something snapped within her head.
She turned her attention to the seas
and pirates life she led.
With cutlass and pistol,
her wrath swathed through the Spanish Main.
A price as big as her rivals
was placed upon her head,
but no one was fool enough to collect it
fearing the wrath of Rose Red.
Her mighty ship the Dragon Queen
sailed without hindrance and impunity.
Treasures of captured ships lined
the Dragon Queen’s hold,
then back to her island home
was the course she chartered
for where her other treasures
lie buried there somewhere.
This secret was only hers
because she alone buried it there.
Anyone who saw where
never lived to tell the tale.
She was savage with her wrath
as she sought out the murderers
of her only son.
Year after year, she sought them down
whether on land or at sea
with her lasting vengeance.
One by one, the murderers fell
from those who had committed it
to those from which their orders fell.
Rose Red gave them their appointment
with the devil they served.
Fear ran among them
of this woman with flaming hair
who struck without warning.
She rode the seas for years
pillaging the greedy as her victims fell.
Now only one remained,
the highest of them all
and the most guarded as well.
He being the King of Spain,
but Rose Red was not
afraid of his army or him.
Into port she sailed one night
guns firing from fore to aft
until no ship was left afloat.
The guns then turned on the town
crumbling each building in turn
until only the palace was left standing.
Then into town, they went
with only one prize to seek.
The palace stood untouched
no holes within its walls
as the pirates strode against it.
First through the main gate
leaving no one left alive
except for the slaves.
Whose freedom they gave
until the king was cornered.
He stood among his treasures
to defend them with his might.
Rose Red strode into the chamber
to face his cowering body
pleading for mercy to be.
She looked at the coward
and lifting her pistol to finish
what had to be done.
The shot echoed in the chamber
and the body slumped down
no more would anyone loose their children
to this wicked crooked crown.
The king was dead and the evil hordes he had sown
where now facing what they gave to others
a hole in the ground.
The treasures were left along with the crown
Rose Red’s vengeance was now complete.
Back to the ship, they strode
sailing out to the oceans free.
No longer did they have
a bounty on their heads
now the king was dead.
They were free to do now as they pleased.
4 September 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bantry Bay
On the eighteenth of October we lay in Bantry Bay,
All ready to set sail, with a fresh and steady gale:
A fortnight and nine days we in the harbour lay,
And no breeze ever reached us or strained a single sail.
Three ships of war had we, and the great guns loaded all;
But our ships were dead and beaten that had never feared a foe.
The winds becalmed around us cared for no cannon ball;
They locked us in the harbour and would not let us go.
On the nineteenth of October, by eleven of the clock,
The sky turned black as midnight and a sudden storm came on--
Awful and sudden--and the cables felt the shock;
Our anchors they all broke away and every sheet was gone.
The guns fired off amid the strife, but little hope had we;
The billows broke above the ship and left us all below.
The crew with one consent cried 'Bear further out to sea,'
But the waves obeyed no sailor's call, and we knew not where to go.
She foundered on a rock, while we clambered up the shrouds,
And staggered like a mountain drunk, wedged in the waves almost.
The red hot boiling billows foamed in the stooping clouds,
And in that fatal tempest the whole ship's crew were lost.
Have pity for poor mariners, ye landsmen, in a storm.
O think what they endure at sea while safe at home you stay.
All ye that sleep on beds at night in houses dry and warm,
O think upon the whole ship's crew, all lost at Bantry Bay.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Muddy Mississippi
Chorus:
I can hardly see my face in the waters of the muddy mississippi
But I can see the shadows of the cotton wood standing over me
The morning sun would find me
Swinging from the rope thats hanging free
And I drop in to the waters
And go swimming in the muddy mississippi
A boy came to the delta
And we would swing together from that tree
I could see my dreams in his eyes
As he held on to me
Swinging in the sunlight
Loving in the shadows
Wild and free
And I made him promise he would take me
Down to new orleans
Bright lights of the city made my red dress and shoes look brand new
While he worked the night shift
I turned on and I turned loose
I lost my pride I lost my man
I did things a girl like me shouldnt do
Now I cant face this living
With the swelling signs of new life
Showing through
I can hardly see my face in the waters of the muddy mississippi
But I can see the shadows of the cotton wood standing over me
The morning sun would find me
Hanging from the rope thats swinging free
And Ill swing for the last time over the waters
Of the muddy mississippi
Yeah the muddy mississippi
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Yarn of the Nancy Bell
'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.
His hair was weedy, his beard was long,
And weedy and long was he,
And I heard this wight on the shore recite,
In a singular minor key:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."
And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
Till I really felt afraid,
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
And so I simply said:
"Oh, elderly man, it's little I know
Of the duties of men of the sea,
And I'll eat my hand if I understand
However you can be
"At once a cook, and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig."
Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which
Is a trick all seamen larn,
And having got rid of a thumping quid,
He spun this painful yarn:
"'Twas in the good ship NANCY BELL
That we sailed to the Indian Sea,
And there on a reef we come to grief,
Which has often occurred to me.
"And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned
(There was seventy-seven o' soul),
And only ten of the NANCY'S men
Said 'Here!' to the muster-roll.
"There was me and the cook and the captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig.
"For a month we'd neither wittles nor drink,
Till a-hungry we did feel,
So we drawed a lot, and, accordin' shot
The captain for our meal.
"The next lot fell to the NANCY'S mate,
And a delicate dish he made;
Then our appetite with the midshipmite
We seven survivors stayed.
"And then we murdered the bo'sun tight,
And he much resembled pig;
Then we wittled free, did the cook and me,
On the crew of the captain's gig.
"Then only the cook and me was left,
And the delicate question, 'Which
Of us two goes to the kettle?' arose,
And we argued it out as sich.
"For I loved that cook as a brother, I did,
And the cook he worshipped me;
But we'd both be blowed if we'd either be stowed
In the other chap's hold, you see.
"'I'll be eat if you dines off me,' says TOM;
'Yes, that,' says I, 'you'll be, -
'I'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I;
And 'Exactly so,' quoth he.
"Says he, 'Dear JAMES, to murder me
Were a foolish thing to do,
For don't you see that you can't cook ME,
While I can - and will - cook YOU!'
"So he boils the water, and takes the salt
And the pepper in portions true
(Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot.
And some sage and parsley too.
"'Come here,' says he, with a proper pride,
Which his smiling features tell,
''T will soothing be if I let you see
How extremely nice you'll smell.'
"And he stirred it round and round and round,
And he sniffed at the foaming froth;
When I ups with his heels, and smothers his squeals
In the scum of the boiling broth.
"And I eat that cook in a week or less,
And - as I eating be
The last of his chops, why, I almost drops,
For a wessel in sight I see!
"And I never larf, and I never smile,
And I never lark nor play,
But sit and croak, and a single joke
I have - which is to say:
"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,
And the mate of the NANCY brig,
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,
And the crew of the captain's gig!'"
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pirate's Bride
Sometimes in the light at the edge of the world
Is the ghost of a ship with it's black sail furled
And night after night she would stand on the shore
And dream of the love that she knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a thought for the ways of men
We set sail for the Spanish Main
To rob the ships of the Queen of Spain
And she would be his pirate's bride
She gave him the pistol and the sword at his side
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again
Full fathom five my true love lies
In a fine wooden casket with gold on his eyes
Where is the glory and where is the pride?
Where is the joy for the pirate's bride?
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
Here in the light at the edge of the world
He'd wait for a ship with it's black sail furled
And day after day he would stand on the shore
And dream of the life that they knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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