The Cavendish…a poem

beach ship cracks black white
Photo by Zukiman Mohamad on Pexels.com

THE CAVENDISH

She drifted in upon the tide

No one knew her name

Beauty shown within her lines

A blessing when she came

For there upon the molten sands

Not even rain to quench

Clung survivors of the sail

Known as The Cavendish

Lost, yet not forgotten

Her crew of sixty-three

Only seven did survive

That angry, swollen sea

For loaded with medallions, gold

Heavy in her bow

Did cost a many man his soul

When sinking they did drown

The captain, guard, and five more crew

Survived the dreadful night

To land upon this island blue

A fight to stay alive

When did the precious sloop adrift

With no one on her board

Gently land upon the isle

Where seven men had stored

Fourteen hands laid on her port

Securing her with ease

A glint of hope in hearts was born

Then prayer upon their knees

Never were the sailors seen

Nowhere were they found

But in a sloop, washed up from sea

Messages were found

To spouses and to daughters

To mothers, fathers, and sons

Treasures drew us from our homes

But the devil’s work was done

Author: What Words May Come

Hopeless romantic; joker; father and grandfather; husband; sportsman; part-time writer;

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