The Plough Boy. Poem by Steve Caine

The Plough Boy

A ship made of Mighty Oaks cut to the bow,
With full sail and crew, she was Hawaii bound,
And how they survived we don't know how,
But the Boy Lewis Monto wrote it down.

They say a whales blood is as warm as a man's,
She sailed from Nantucket with thirty deck hands,
A boy with his journal, in black and tan.
As the Ploughboy set out for foreign lands.

Dark waters run deep, our history deeper,
Forgotten young men, rum, ropes and cleats,
Stories to tell of the new lands they seek,
Tales of waves and a young boys feats.

They say a mans blood is as warm as a whale,
On that last voyage, she would lose her crew,
Out in the ocean Mighty Oaks lost their Sails.
As the Whaler broke up on a shoal near Peru.

Lewis Monto who was he, just a Boy of Seventeen.
He dared to write, he dared to dream, stories of the sparkling seas.

They say a mans blood is as warm as a whales,
Its heart is so large it beats like clapped sails,
Its spirit lives on in the stories and tales,
Now the Plough Boy, lives on in the deep with the whales.