The Cave

I’d known of the cave beneath the cliff

For a year, or maybe more,

And I’d often said to Jill, ‘What if…’

But we’d not been there before.

It was only at the lowest tide

That the entrance could be seen,

We’d have to dive, to swim inside

And for that, Jill wasn’t keen.

For the cave lay in a tiny cove

With towering cliffs above,

‘So how are we going to get down there,

To swim,’ said Jill, ‘my love,’

We’ll hire a boat and we’ll cruise around

With our gear, from Canning Bay,

Which is what we did with our scuba tanks

On a fresh, mid-winter day.

It took a couple of hours or more

To get to the favoured spot,

The sea was calm, we secured the boat

Next to a giant rock,

Then over the side we went, and swam

Toward that narrow gap,

Then dived below with the tidal flow

There was just the one mishap.

Jill caught her tank on the overhang

And it nicked her feeder hose,

She still had air, but I had to stare

As a stream of bubbles rose,

We swam right into the inner cave

Where the roof gave us more height,

So up we came to the air again

And I lit my small flashlight.

The walls reflected the sudden beam

In a thousand different ways,

There were reds and greens, and even cream

In a host of coloured sprays,

Then further on as we swam along

Was a ledge we clambered on,’

And there the bones of a longboat lay

From a time, both dead and gone.

And further in was a pile of bones

Of some poor, benighted soul,

Caught in hell in this prison cell

When the tide began to roll,

He must have come when the tide was low

And sailed in through the gap,

Then stayed too late, there was no escape

Once the tide had closed the trap.

And close by him lay an iron chest

With its bands all rusted through,

Full of coins, of gold Moidores

And Spanish Dollars too.

But Jill became so excited by

The glitter of the stuff,

That she’d forgotten the fractured hose,

Or to turn her Oxy off.

I played the light up above the bones

Where a script was scratched in the wall,

‘God help me, I was cast in here

By the crew of the ‘One for All,’

They told me to hide the treasure here

And would pick me up at eleven,

But then the entrance disappeared,’

It was ‘1797.’

Jill’s tank was empty when we looked,

So I said I’d leave her there,

Go back and pick up another tank

But her face was filled with fear.

It’s been a week since I left her there

For the sea’s blown up, as well,

And the entrance to the cave has gone

Under a ten foot swell.

I’d give all the coin, and gold doubloons

Just to get my woman back,

But there’s been a great white pointer there,

I’m afraid of a shark attack.

If she just can last till the sea goes down

I shall go to that awful cave,

But the thought I’ve fought since I left her there,

‘It may be my woman’s grave.’

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Helen Crutchett]

A fantastic tale David. I, too, am in awe of your rhyming. Oh how I wish I had your talent!

Helena

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Good story. It amazes me how you manage to create your stories with the rhyming and meter. Excellent as always DLP.

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked the story. I liked those hidden spots by the sea. I tested the sea a few times. She was kind to me. I liked the journey and the deep thoughts. Thank you David for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[J.J.Cooke]

Another great story, thank you!

[Valentine]

Very interesting write from beginning to the end. I was hoping they might get away with a few of those coins though. Good write Mate. Valentine

[Tony Jordan]

I like to think I'd be back no matter what but sharks are such a bete noire for me - heck anything under the water that gave me a dirty look would have me looking for clean swim shorts.
If there's anything left of her at least they'll be able to have a nice wee relaxing holiday together. lol.
Great suspense - I thought the cave would blow up with that leaky oxygen.

[EMMIE]

This is some gooooooood story telling, I think it's funny. He loves her but he's like eh....I'll go back when I can lol!

[Ellen Hammond]

Wow! I don't know if I should laugh or cry. lol Great poem with your flair for telling intriguing stories in rhyme. Love it! This actually brings back memories of when I first moved to the coast and discovered caves that could only be accessed when the tide was low. But once the tide turned the cave entrance filled up quickly so I didn't dare explore too far. We have 23 foot high tides here.