Three Tall Ships(2nd Edit) Poem by Mark Dillon

Three tall ships sailed out from the bay
on a bright golden sunny day.
With the wind in their sails
and the sun in their faces
for to seek adventure in exotic places.

For two weeks they sailed,
and the weather it was fair.
And the crew, they basked
in the suns warm glare.
But then the sea grew wild
and the skies turned black.
One sailed on, but the others turned back.

Oh the storm it grew fierce
and the waves they did rise.
Washing over the galleon,
you could hear the mens cries.
The wind tore the rigging,
as the masts, they broke free.
And when Poseidens wrath finished.
There was nothing to see.

The brave galleon had floundered.
And the crew they were lost.
Now in Davy Jones locker they count the cost.
And drink rum and tell stories
with old friends from the past
and how this voyage was to be their last.

Now on a clear calm night, if you venture to sail.
You can hear the stories that are told by the whale.
As they tell each other about the places they've been,
about things that happened and things they've seen.
And about a sailor who waves as he sits on a rocker
at the bottom of the sea in Davy Jones Locker.