My world slipped
away
Under that icy bay.
My shipmates, the Captain and all.
A fourteen year-old
With left over gold
Still there on that treasure ship tall.
I lit an oil lamp
For warmth although scant
Within the ship's treasure room.
Their faint echoes confide
To the spirits inside
"There's room for one more in this tomb."
I passed back and
forth
On the deck for a course
Of release from this situation,
And prayed at
least twice
For release from this ice
Or a plan of pure inspiration.
A sound at the
door
And then at the floor
Made my heart jump and swim.
Could it be a survivor?
A corsair? A fighter?
If not, my chances were slim.
I opened the door
And there on the floor,
A sailor in mate's uniform.
His near-death stare
Left no life to spare.
The first mate was here to get warm,
So then, there we
be,
The first mate and me.
We two lived after all.
Through heaven and hell
We rang the ship's bell.
Mine through luck and his through gall.
I brought closer
the lamp
To the murderous scamp
And the small flame shone in his eyes
A remorse of the soul
That made a man whole
When he's close to his death and demise.
He whispered to
me
A plan to get free
Just as chancy as inviting.
A plan to just drift
On the ice from the cliff
And hope for an early ship sighting.
His shuddering form
Seemed oddly forlorn
As I viewed the last of his life.
There on the deck
Of that wealthy wreck
Ended his torment and strife.
With an axe and a
pack
And gold coins in a sack
And some fuel and coal oil lamp,
I set out on ice
To heed his advice
And on the iceberg set up camp.
With luck as it
is
And a very near miss
I was able to reach the berg.
And as the wind blew
I hoped that I knew
That my plan really wasn't absurd.
I chopped a small
cave,
My lamp's heat to save
And lay on my coat to rest.
I could only pray
That in a few days
Some ship would sight my berg's crest,
I slept off and
on
For days all along.
I finally woke from my curse,
On a ship of the line
Of the passenger kind
And luckily, one with a nurse.
As the nurse told me,
The watches at sea
Who sighted the iceberg afloat,
Saw through the night
A lantern's weak light
And rescued this boy with a boat.
I was nursed back
to health
Which took most of my wealth
But lost my leg and my arm.
And through all these years
I've told you, my peers
About treasure and great icy storms.
And with that
note,
Jack scratched his throat
And rose with an air of audacity.
He walked to the wall
And with finger scrawled
Said "Here you will find my reality."
He traced a track
On that rough sailor's map
That had hung on the wall for years.
"Right here is the spot
Where ghost ships rot,
Of gold and silver and tears."
"If any one mate
Will take the bait,
I'll sail with him right now.
Yes, here are the wrecks
Marked by an X
And the grave of the Jaserack's bow."
Some grumbles and
groans
And popping knee bones
Were heard at the end of Jack's story.
Some mates were doubters
And some were pouters
While some thought it all a bit gory.
The inn keeper
called out,
"Here’s your breakfast. you lout.
Now which of you fellows will pay?"
"Not me!" mused one.
"The story is done,
And the night is already day."
One by one they
resisted
But the keeper insisted
On payment in full for his service.
A demand that was fair
And issued with care
That made all the drinkers look nervous,
"Oh hell!" did
Jack say,
"I guess I will pay.
The lubbers just wanted a chill.
A story of old,
And ships of gold.
For the price of my rum, a cheap thrill."
There on the
table
As in an old fable
Jack tossed down a gold doubloon.
They all quit their crying
While looking and sighing
Then ran to the map in the room.
With a wink of
Jack's eye
"They'll pay by and by."
The keeper knew he was right.
Jack withdrew his gold coin
And finished his poem,
Robert
E Browne