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| The crew blew a whistle |
| by Harriet Oliver |
I was listening to a whistle the crew blew
thinking it would be nice to throw a dice
to see who knew to choose new two too
having achieved luck, not twice, but thrice.
The fortune found now theirs would go to their heirs
as the waves washes over the vessel's side
crouching in leirs while muttering prayers
seeking safety from the ocean wide.
The water was ice cold although it was spring
hovering above ocean filled with dread,
no longer welcoming
gold, but a ship now heavy as lead.
The captain made a moving speech
while the shipmates cowered in fear
at lessons the sea endeavours to teach
those that hover here for all to hear.
At heaven's gate we'll see those fine men again
marvelling at their chivalry
for me sunken trasures less precious than to be free
and liberty and salvation akin to eternity. |
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