Ron Dawson

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The Ghosts Of The Sea

The ghosts of the sunken ships remember the fog,
Reminiscent of the danger of a wild, mad dog.

Hidden it the darkness it came into the night,
everyone aboard the sailing ship became affright.

They lost their way in that thick cloud as they fell the rhythm of the waves,
They could hear the water as it crashed against the shore and the caves.

Before the sailor knew it they were in the sea among the rolling, foaming crests,
The deep sea was calling them as the waves broke across their breasts.

The high seas had taken another ship as it lay battered among the rocks, moving
slowly with tide,
Softly they could hear the whispering of the fog as it spoke to the ocean wide.

The ghosts of the sea beckon as the ocean becomes a sheet of glass,
The fog has lifted and the ghosts for the deep invite the ships who would dare pass.

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