Lighthouse
| Cerian Cantwr |
|
I once had the fortune to serve as a first mate
Who sailed coastal waters ‘round Scotland so fair We carried our cargo to where it was scarcest We purchased it cheaply but sold it dear there. On one Christmas eve in the inlet near Fenchurch The lighthouse it spurned us its aid we forsook We anchored at sea near the mouth of the inlet And when came the dawn we rowed in for a look. The lighthouse was built on the top of an island A grandiose name for a small dome of rock Much to our surprise there was no one to greet us We climbed up the hill quite concerned and took stock. We opened the door and a strange sight did greet is A hardly touched meal on the table was there All three oil skins that the crew could be wearing But no sign of life save a knocked over chair. We climbed to the top where the light should be burning Found plenty of fuel ready and set to light What could have become of our good friends and comrades? What fate made them vanish out into the night? We stayed for a short time to tend to the lighthouse Our ship sailed short-handed and told of our tale We scoured that rock and the waters around it But at finding a hint of our friends we did fail. Its been twenty years since that cold Christmas morning A full search did follow which failed in its goal Those three men had no way to leave from that island And no mortal’s seen them since…. God rest their souls. They left us a mystery and none ever solved it I wake in the night toward the dark I do stare The sole mortal sign of those three men near Fenchurch Were an unfinished meal and an overturned chair. |
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