Mayflower

A Poem by PANTHER

Thirty-seven braved the Atlantic in that long ago September.
Three hundred-ninety-three years, it's those pilgrims we remember.
One hundred-two emigrants aboard the Mayflower the new world saw.
Half that number, through the winter, came spring were no more.

We remember the Mayflower, not Captain Jones or the sixty-five others.
Were here and they toiled, through first hard months, like sister and brother.
On that ninety foot vessel were they too, still is the land emigrants trod.
The land of the pilgrims rings and shouts liberty, raise voices to God.

When we hear Mayflower 'tis the pilgrims we think most.
For this nation we praise you dear father, son, and holy ghost.
Was with faith strong in spirit that they built this great land.
We must, hold firm those beliefs as we now make our stand.

By panther811