The Eye of the Sea - Part 4

cont'd These anguished howls that knew no bounds, Continued for hours without count. ‘til a silence as deep as eternal sleep Enveloped the ship in its gowns. And amidst the gloom, exhumed from the tomb, A shaded and ghostly shape, With cobwebbed sails, salt-bitten rails, And seaweed couture drapes. A ship it must be, but like none on the sea, A wraith spat upwards from Hell, And bearing the spirits of our crewmembers with it, Each greeting the man they knew well. For each crewman there, a twin in despair, A spectre of future distress, With a grisly demise written large in their eyes Portraying their spirits abyss. The sailors watched as the boat approached In silence, awe and terror, Routed there, in fresh despair At Kismet’s growing horror. On course for collision, this God-awful vision, Met with us way too quick, And the shadowy form of this vessel hellborn, Ran into and straight through our ship. And before day was done, the haze was gone, With no hint of mystical powers, But overcome by fright, we returned overnight To the fabulous Island of Flowers. A while was spent relaxing in tents Exalting in the islands pleasures, Then Captain McWhirter, led the search for deserters, ‘Give no quarter, or easy measures!’ But, O’Leary and Griffin got wind of our mission And had hidden aways inland, We searched in vain for quite a few days But no sign of them could be found. So after this rest we continued our quest, With five flowers to complete the crew. The sea was bright in the morning light And the wind was with us too. For many a league we travelled at speed, We laughed at the nautical mile, For the dangers pale when there’s life in your sails, And you’re bathing in Neptune’s smile. Then without warning the wind started falling, The boat no longer made way, With no hint of a breeze in the South China Seas It sat calmly for many a day. Through nights and days in the misty haze The vessel barely shifted, With Weevils, with fleas, with weeping disease, Our spirits were hardly lifted. Then adrift one night, in the clear moonlight We all felt a growing unease, And before the sun rose the rigging had froze, In the heat of the South China Seas. This omen of chill, fair sapped our will, Again our spirits had faltered, Just one of the crew could think what to do: So the Pagan was sent to his altar. The Sinner prayed to the Gods he’d made: ‘Please help us we’re in dire need,’ One actually heard these begging words But it wasn’t to aid he agreed. contd