The Ghost Ship Poem by Shaun Cronick

A cold wind whipped across the bay,
There had been a rising storm all day.
Oh! This night of gloomy seas,
The Ghost Ship appears!
A ship lost with all souls,
For one hundred years.

The dark sails on the high, strong masts,
Blow broadly with the icy gales blasts.
Its wooden body cuts through waters black,
For this is the night, this ship comes back.

A moaning sound, surrounds the spectral boat,
A moaning sound, from many a dead wet throat.
A thick fog creeps along the deck,
And its doomed crew after the wreck.
Rotting faces reveal true horror and fear,
Of pitiful screams and sobbing of tear.

Through broken clouded sky a full moon shines,
The ship now gone, no screams, no whines.
The winds drop and the fog does lift,
The Ghost Ship gone, no more adrift.

In 100 years it will again haunt the sea,
But until that dark day, it will R.I.P.