The Atlantic Queen Poem by Charles M Moore

The Atlantic Queen
the best they'd seen
set sail upon the tide
she sailed from Portsmouth harbour
her mains agape and wide
and keen her crew
for none refused
to put foot on her deck
a tarry lot of mariners
young jacks and leathernecks

And ho to sea
they put the Queen
her belly trinket full
to pillage kings of southern seas
and undermine their rule
so there she waves the union brave
a skipping out of sight
beyond the coast into the wave
till sundown meets the night

Then morning woke the tarry lot
and morning came again
eight more would pass
untill the last
of Queen and tarry men

And on that fateful morning
just ten days from the shore
the crew worked as they'd always done
oblivious to the core
then somthing changed their mind and mood
a pinkish kind of haze
it covered all on board the ship
its heat a firery rage

And as the heat grew tenser
it scorched their eyes and scalp
it set fire to masts and sails
refusing to go out
tar boiled on the rigging
and burst up into flame
like some great whip it lashed around
igniting ship and frame

With burning flesh the men gave up
their skin a putrid hue
they fought with all their might that day
but nothing could they do
so alone the mighty Queen
went sinking to the grave
and all was lost that tragic morn
except a pinky haze.