JackdawA Poem by David Lewis PagetThe bones of a Barquentine still lie On the reef at Shipwreck Cove, You can see the spars at the lowest tide Where it sank with its treasure trove, The gale that brought it ashore comes once In a hundred years, they say, It dragged the anchors and shredded the sails And the crew all died that day. But not before the terrible sea Had ripped each man apart, Some lost their heads, their arms and legs And it tore out one man’s heart, The waves had battered them over the reef And onto the rock strewn shore, But in the whirl was a slip of a girl By the name of Eleanor Daw. Her hair was matted, her skin was torn There was one deep gash on her head, They couldn’t believe that she’d survived With the torrents of blood she’d bled, Her pulse was faint but her heart still beat And she roused as they carried her back, She cried but a single name that day, The name of her husband, Jack. But Jack had gone where the lost will go Was swept to eternal rest, Down with the sea anemone The flesh peeled off from his breast, His hand torn off with his wedding ring Was swept along with the tide, A glint of a tiny, shining thing With no thought of his former bride. But Eleanor Daw had walked the shore For a year, long after he died, His body was never recovered so she Still kept him alive, inside, She wore the black of a mourning gown And a veil that covered her face, Whenever the winter storms blew in She’d look for the merest trace. The hand that carried the wedding ring Had gradually come apart, The fingers went on their different ways But one stayed close to her heart, A storm had cast it up on the beach Where it glinted there in the sun, And a bird swooped down on the shiny thing Took the ring and the bones as one. It had lined its nest with wayward coins That lay half hidden in sand, Now took the ring and the finger too To join its contraband, But the finger wouldn’t give up the ring And the nest was almost complete, So it flew again where the widow went And it dropped the ring at her feet. Eleanor stooped to pick it up And the bird hopped onto her arm, They walked together along the beach As she held the ring in her palm, Now every day you will see them walk The bird, and Eleanor Daw, And if you stop her, she’ll meet and greet: ‘My husband and I, Jack Daw!’ David Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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19 Reviews Added on June 1, 2013 Last Updated on June 1, 2013 Tags: barquentine, reef.rocks, blood Author
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