The French Corvette

At midnight, out on the cobblestones

There’s the sound of rolling wheels,

And a shadow cast on a window pane

From the road outside, it steals,

A wagon, black in its livery,

And pulled by a single horse,

As black as the heart of the man that steers,

Whipped up from the watercourse.

From down in a tiny inlet, deep

Enough for a man of war,

A French corvette is lying, waiting,

Just metres away from shore,

It carried a cargo of brandy, wine,

And cases full of tea,

Smuggled into the tiny cove

Its goods all duty free.

Now it’s waiting upon the tide

To turn the ship around,

Its cargo gone in the wagon now,

Headed for higher ground,

And then the galloping hoofbeats echo

Over the cobblestones,

The crack of a couple of pistols and

The air is filled with groans.

The horse breaks free of its halter and

The wagon rolls back down,

It’s shadow passing my window pane

A second time around,

It rolls back into the harbour while

I hear the boom of guns,

Firing from the French Corvette

As it hoists its sail, and runs.

Once a year on the fifth of June

And late into the night,

Whenever the moon is lying low

And casting down its light,

I see the shadows and hear the sounds

From that deadly time of yore,

As the ghostly French Corvette departs

And sails from the ghostly shore.

And glistening out on the cobblestones

There’s a dampness, looks like mud,

That dissipates in an hour or two,

A pool of the smuggler’s blood,

I dare not go to the window, look,

Or even open the door,

In case I’m carried away by them

From two hundred years before.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[BlackRose]

Terrific piece. Leaves you in anticipation of what's to happen next till the end. Such an enjoyable read as always as your others I've read.

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing tale written my friend. You create situation and surprise ending. Thank you David for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Love the premise...a ghostly French Corvette...well written as always...