THE WHALE

by David G Dickenson

THERE'S A LEGEND ABOUND OF AN ISLAND AT SEA
THAT SWIMS ALL ALONE SO MIGHTY AND FREE
WASHING THE WAVES AS HE THUNDERS AVAST
AFRAID OF NO MAN, NO CREATURE NO MAST

WRINKLED AND TWISTED AND COATED IN SHELL
HARPOONS OF OLD AND WEAPONS FROM HELL
HUNDREDS HAVE TRIED,AND HUNDREDS HAVE DIED
TO MURDER THE PRINCE OF THE SEA AND THE TIDE.

ONE MAN ALONE FULL OF VENGENCE AND HATE
CRIPPLED HIMSELF BY ENCOUNTERS OF LATE
A NAME FROM THE PAST SO WICKED AND IMMORAL
OLD AHAB HAD DARED PICK HIS LAST QUARREL

AT LAST ON A DAY WHEN THE BIRDS FLEW ALOFT
ON THE DIRGE LIKE HORIZON SO GREAT AND SO SOFT
THE SMELL OF THE LAND WHERE NO LAND COULD BE
THE DUEL OF OLD WAS MOMENTOUS TO SEE.

HUSHED FOR A WHILE AS THIS MONSTER OF OLD
SOUNDED SO DEEP SO MIGHTY SO BOLD
ERUPTED AND FANTAILED AND CRASHED THROUGH THE FOAM
MAKING HIS MARK AND PROMOTING HIS HOME.

NO BOAT SURVIVED THIS DEADLY ONSLAUGHT
AHAB ALONE ON THE ROPES HAD BEEN CAUGHT
BECKONING ON IN A GHOSTLY LIKE TRANCE
KNOWING NO MAN, NO CREW HAD A CHANCE.

FRIGHTNING TO SEE THIS BEAST FROM THE DEEP
HIS WRATH ON THE SHIP SO SWIFT WAS TO KEEP
SWIRLING AROUND LIKE A MAELSTROM SO VAST
THE PEQUOD, SHE SANK WITH ALL HANDS AND MAST.

ONLY ONE SOUL SURVIVED HIS STORY TO TELL
OF THE CREATURE OF OLD A MONSTER FROM HELL
YOUNG ISHMAEL ALIVE HIS NARRATION NO TRICK
OF THE LEGEND THAT WAS THE GREAT MOBY DICK