Storm Island

We ran aground on an island,

In the eye of a hurricane,

The wind was swirling around us,

As loud as a runaway train,

A dozen people had floated up

Sucked off the deck of the ship,

Lost forever in giant seas

At the height of our pleasure trip.

The ship was battered and spun around

Like a toy in the hands of a boy,

This giant behemoth of the seas

Tossed round like a tinker toy.

We heard it grind on the outer reef

Then be driven right up to the beach,

It slowly toppled, onto its side

With the lifeboats out of reach.

We hid inside till the storm was spent

Then cautiously went ashore,

There must have been a hundred of us,

But there had been hundreds more,

Some drowned in the lower cabins

When the sides of the ship were breached,

And others died, fell over the side

As the priest of the ship had preached.

But there was no god in the heavens,

Just the mighty god of the storm,

We were soaked, and so dishevelled,

Just trying to keep us warm,

So we sheltered in a grove of trees

That had swayed, but still they stood,

While the men went through the fallen trees

Gathering firewood.

It was night before we knew it,

There had been torrential rain,

The many fires that we had lit

Were lit, and lit again,

We managed a palm frond shelter

To protect us from the breeze,

But people were dying, by the score

With old men on their knees.

If only the ship had stayed upright

We could treat it like a shack,

But once we found we were on the ground

There was no way to climb back,

And then at night we were all in fright

When we heard a roar, so bold,

Like a raging beast in the further trees

That it made our blood run cold.

People were screaming in the dark

On the outskirts of the crowd,

And sounds of ripping, and gnashing teeth

In the darkness were so loud,

The morning showed us the grisly truth

There were pieces everywhere,

Whatever it was, and to our cost

They’d been sounds of rip and tear.

That only leaves a dozen of us

So I cast this into the sea,

A scrawl in a tiny bottle in

The hopes that you’ll set us free.

We take it in turns to keep a watch

For the monster of this shore,

On this tiny little island that

Has never been mapped before.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[A Soap Mess Stories]

They survived the storm, only to be caught up by the beast. Intriguing read.

[Ellen Hammond]

Intriguing, sad tale that reminds me of the saying "when your time is up it is up". As many survived the storm but were caught by the beast. Well done, David!

[Coyote Poetry]

Those storms. No kindness or gentleness in them. A sad ending to this tale. Thank you David for sharing your entertaining poetry.
Coyote