A Proud Maiden Sleeps

Far from the sun, deep under the waves,
at the sandy bottom of the dark green sea,
she rests in a cold, dark, uneasy slumber
her bow pointed up and towards the northeast.
 
Dressed in a gown made of pretty algae green
with a bright pink necklace of coral, like lace
the proud British Maiden sleeps all alone,
lost in the depths, free from time and from space.
 
Sharks and small fishes swim blithely through her holds,
in and out of old sailor’s bones,
whose skulls seem frozen in ghastly, wide grins
looking so jolly in their new watery home.
 
Sea creatures crawl over mounds of rich treasure,
shiny, silver pieces and coins of dull gold;
dear to the men that fought and died o’er it,
to its present owners now, all worthless and cold.
 
The ship’s rotting timbers, how they creak and they groan.
With the ocean’s soft rocking, they move and they moan.
They tell a sad story for no one to hear,
‘bout the fierce deadly battle that fated them here.
 
She was once a fair lady, a proud member of the fleet,
her prow slicing the waves like a cutlass, so neat.
She rose on the waves proudly, and dove down like a mermaid
and laughed at the notion of her perchance defeat.
 
But alas, one dark evening she was greedily spied
by a pirate ship villainous, with a black-hearted crew.
 They gazed on her sweet dainties with wicked desire,
to steal her fine treasure there was naught they’d not do.
 
As they watched from the railing in deep, dark despair,
the Maid’s crew studied the bold buccaneers.
The sleek, pirate cruiser and the terrible sight
of the black Jolly Roger filled the Maid’s crew with fear.
 
Still the men held their courage and manned the deck’s guns.
They tamped down the powder and loaded the shot.
To repel the invaders they knew was a must,
or a watery grave would soon be their lot.
 
        Suddenly from the darkness came a thunderous roar
and flash after flash of bright orange light.
As both pirates and Britons put tinder to fuse,
and the cannons roared to commence the dire fight.
 
 
Soon the air came alive with screams of men in pain
and the ear rending sound of splintering wood.
Both men and their ships in the dread throes of death,
whether God thought them evil or ‘ere He deemed them good.
 
With bloodthirsty screams
the buccaneers came aboard
as the maid’s crew tried vainly
to repel the pirate hoard.
 
The Maid’s men knew soon
they would all meet their death
yet they defended their dear Lady
to their very last breath.
 
The pirates were heartless,
their steel ruthless and cold;
they cut down the brave Britons,
both the young and the old.
 
But suddenly to the eyes
of the desperate Maid’s crew,
there appeared a salvation!
Their hopes were renewed!
 
On the distant horizon
came an answer to prayers!
A British Man Of War,
her guns ready for bear!
 
Now ‘twas the pirates’
hearts melting in fear!
They jumped ship like rats,
as the battleship drew near!
 
But alas the poor maiden,
mortally struck by her fight,
sank slowly to the depths
as her attackers took flight.
 
Now the proud British lady
has found a new home.
She’s down, down in the darkness
ever and always alone.
 
She’s a permanent resident
with her gold and her bones
 in the
Deep
Cold
Dark
Locker…
of Old Davy Jones.