Jackdaw

The bones of a Barquentine still lie

On the reef at Shipwreck Cove,

You can see the spars at the lowest tide

Where it sank with its treasure trove,

The gale that brought it ashore comes once

In a hundred years, they say,

It dragged the anchors and shredded the sails

And the crew all died that day.

 

But not before the terrible sea

Had ripped each man apart,

Some lost their heads, their arms and legs

And it tore out one man’s heart,

The waves had battered them over the reef

And onto the rock strewn shore,

But in the whirl was a slip of a girl

By the name of Eleanor Daw.

 

Her hair was matted, her skin was torn

There was one deep gash on her head,

They couldn’t believe that she’d survived

With the torrents of blood she’d bled,

Her pulse was faint but her heart still beat

And she roused as they carried her back,

She cried but a single name that day,

The name of her husband, Jack.

 

But Jack had gone where the lost will go

Was swept to eternal rest,

Down with the sea anemone

The flesh peeled off from his breast,

His hand torn off with his wedding ring

Was swept along with the tide,

A glint of a tiny, shining thing

With no thought of his former bride.

 

But Eleanor Daw had walked the shore

For a year, long after he died,

His body was never recovered so she

Still kept him alive, inside,

She wore the black of a mourning gown

And a veil that covered her face,

Whenever the winter storms blew in

She’d look for the merest trace.

 

The hand that carried the wedding ring

Had gradually come apart,

The fingers went on their different ways

But one stayed close to her heart,

A storm had cast it up on the beach

Where it glinted there in the sun,

And a bird swooped down on the shiny thing

Took the ring and the bones as one.

 

It had lined its nest with wayward coins

That lay half hidden in sand,

Now took the ring and the finger too

To join its contraband,

But the finger wouldn’t give up the ring

And the nest was almost complete,

So it flew again where the widow went

And it dropped the ring at her feet.

 

Eleanor stooped to pick it up

And the bird hopped onto her arm,

They walked together along the beach

As she held the ring in her palm,

Now every day you will see them walk

The bird, and Eleanor Daw,

And if you stop her, she’ll meet and greet:

‘My husband and I, Jack Daw!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Onku Ghosh]

Excellent !!!Don't know how you write such lengthy pieces so perfectly .Great work - you are such a good story weaver.

[Pure Hope]

You have touched that part of me where both rhyme and love bloom. This is so bittersweet David. An excellent piece. Wonderful, sad story. Beautiful ending. :) Kudos!

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

A fantasy... what the lonely widow thinks...

Nice narrative. :)

[TPK Stories]

Loved how you wove Jack with the bird. Interesting story. :-)

[LapseOfMind]

I really enjoy your poetry, the stories you tell, all of bigone times and metered well.

[Marie]

Captivating. The interweaving of the name "Jack" and the bird is great.

[SyberRose]

Another creative tale from you David...Dont know how you do it ha...loved it!...Rose:)

[quinfinn]

oh my ! this is so wonderfully clever! great poem with a terrific ending!

[Saumya]

great work..!!!
hats off..!!
:)