So, it was discovered recently that I have written numerous poems during my lifetime (ok, so some of them were more limericks than poems) and it came as somewhat a surprise to some that I engaged in such "folly". Regardless, being found out has prompted a few to ask me to produce evidence of such an endeavor, to prove the moniker of "poet" being added to my credentials. So, without further adieu, I present a poem I penned sometime about 1992.
HMS Victory To my Father-In-Law, a sailor at heart! From whence they hung me from my feet That band of brethren, a sailors fleet No longer apt to use the “hole” No lubbers legs, a sailors goal My hands are worn at such an age It’s hard to tell, or guess, or gauge My Captains call to man the lines Until my death, this Victory’s mine On decks below, those kegs we catch Supplies the guns, secures the hatch We’re powder monkeys to the end As splintered shards I could not fend Exploded hull below the bow Drives pointed spears into my brow And daylight falls within my life Begins to drain all worldly strife And there before my clouded eyes Before my breath said last goodbyes My Captain Nelson held my head He spoke to me and softly said, “Dear boy, without your selfless way, We never would have won this day. Your courage shown, to heavens roam.” I closed my eyes, for I was home. © G.W. Davis - 1992
Author's Comments: In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, sailing ships were not only majestic, but also incredible tools of war. The HMS Victory, Lord Horatio Nelsons' flagship at the battle of Trafalgar (October 21, 1805) was 186 feel long and 52 feet wide. She had three decks, a crew of 850 men (some were just boys) and 100 guns of various poundage. Small boys, sometimes as young as 10-yrs old, (called Powder Monkeys) were responsible for the dangerous duty of carrying kegs of black powder from the lower holds of the ship to the attendants manning the cannons during battle. In the opening stanza, the reference of being hung by your feet was an honored tradition that experienced sailors would do to new sailors. It amazes me that most sailors did not die from gunshot during battle, but from the splintering wood when an enemy’s cannon ball struck the ship. If you get a chance to look up the HMS Victory (docked in England) or the USS Constitution (the oldest of all naval sailing ships, docked in Boston) they are sites to see. This poem is about a young "powder monkey" who succumbed to his wounds during the Battle of Trafalgar. It is also worth noting that Lord Nelson was fatally wounded during this same battle.
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