The Old Ship

I apologize to Joyce Kilmer for butchering his poem, “The Old House With Nobody In It.”

 

The Old Ship

By Garland Davis

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Whenever I travel down the road toward the old track

I go by the old ship hulk with its deck and bulkhead paint rusty and black

I suppose I’ve passed it a hundred times, but I always stop and think for a minute

I look at the ship, the tragic old girl, The ship with no one in it.

 

I never have seen a haunted ship, but I hear there are such things;

That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth, and sorrowings.

I know this old ship isn’t haunted, and I wish it were, I do;

For it wouldn’t be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.

 

If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid

I’d put a gang of men to work with scraper, brush, and blade

I’d buy that ship and fix it up the way it used to be

And find a group of old sailors who wanted a home and we would put to sea

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3 thoughts on “The Old Ship

  1. William Clay says:

    My old chipper and bucket of red lead may still lie aboard
    My sweat may be washed a sea by now, but the sounds linger on
    She kept me safe thru stormy seas and returned me to the ones I love
    What more can be asked and how do I ever repay such a debt to my old friend?
    Those of us that maned the rail after lines were cast and the call to sail, will always
    Hear her horn blow in our memories of going to sea not knowing where our journies
    May take us, yet excited. Rust on McCard.

    Liked by 1 person

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