Around the Horn

THIS POEM IS NOT PRESENTED AS I INTENDED (ie. DOUBLE SPACED).

THIS HAS BEEN DONE BY PERSONS BEYOND MY CONTROL

THUS DIMINISHING THE READING EXPERIENCE.

🙈

Take a drink o' grog boys

Your home is far away;

Midst the gales and stormy noise

Close your eyes and pray.

Pray god not desert your soul

And leave you here forlorn;

His time has come to test you all

You're 'bout to round the horn.

The shivering timbers creaking,

The straining oak beams creep;

This devil's day is seeking

To claim you for the deep.

The stinging rain bombards you

With all its mightful force,

The fiendish wind attempting to

Divert you from your course.

The lookout in the crow's nest,

The Flying Dutchman spies;

A hundred yards or more at best,

Right there before his eyes.

A ghost ship with its fated crew

Never making shore;

Dancing in and out of view...

Adrift for evermore.

Your weary eyes are half ajar,

Overcome with sleep;

Slumber overdue, by far,

Your vigil watch you keep.

But close your eyes and you are cast

Crashing to the waves

Joining shipmates from the past

Therein their sea-deep graves.

The helmsman ~ now the pilot ~

Travails to navigate;

Averting every islet

Or hazard in the strait.

Holding firm the route he plans

Maintains an even keel,

Clenching both his naked hands

Frozen to the wheel.

And now Pacific waters lie

Half a world to rear;

Atlantic breakers sailors spy,

And cheer a hearty cheer.

A golden earring you may choose,

Your left lobe to be worn;

You hauled you weight and paid your dues...

The rounding of The Horn.

                             ASJ