Wreckers Poem by Marilyn Shepperson

There's a storm lashing the sea
Raging winds whip the salt waves
While a curtain of rain, makes it difficult to see
A sailing merchant ship is running close to shore
As close as her master dares
The lookout clinging to the crows nest
Cries, I can see a light. We're saved
But unknown to him, the light he has seen
Is a lantern hanging from the neck of a goat
So the man at the wheel, turns the ship
Even more shoreward, swept in by the tide
Till with a crashing of splintering wood
She heaves herself up on the jagged black rocks
The crew try to save themselves, but most are drowned
Yet there are men on the beach, waiting
They do not try to help, but if any man
Makes it ashore, he faces death by cudgel
For the men that led the ship astray
To end her life on those sharp teeth
Are Cornish wreckers, who will now wait
Until the angry storm abates
Then uncaring, they'll leave the bodies
To be washed out to sea at the next high tide
While they row out to the ship, to grab waht they can
Before she finally slips off the rocks and sinks under