As the Lighthouse Keeper
On Partridge Island
I see a lot,
Whether I want to or not.
And I’ve seen her before,
The Flaming Ghost ship,
On the dread of All Hallows.
But you never really know.
But this time,
Paw, my cat/kitten
Black as Satan
With one white mitten,
Saw her too.
And didn’t like what he saw.
But he’s a brave soul,
And didn’t leave my side.
So we stayed in the Tower,
And watched from the windows,
The light circling behind us.
The flames coming from the dark,
Full sails, all unfurled,
And all ravaged by flames
That never burned out.
And the deck,
And the gunwales
From prow to stern,
And the sailors.
Those poor lads,
Never consumed
As the full-of-flame ship
Passed the mouth of the harbour.
And what could I do,
But touch the life that was Paw,
Feel his fur, and his breath,
With one hand,
While I made a shaky
Sign of the Cross,
On my chest.
With the other.
I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report
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