by Nancy Davis
We came upon a ghostly ship,
an aberration straight from hell,
as slowly through the fog she slipped
the only sound a tolling bell.
Mystically the crew had vanished.
at the helm the Captain stands.
Ghostly figure, weapons brandished,
gripping tightly with his hands.
All the rigging’s hanging loosely
all the sails are tattered rags.
Wind had ravaged, blown profusely,
as they raised the signal flags.
All who boarded came back quickly.
faces ashen, filled with fright !
Some were even feeling sickly,
weakened by the ghostly light.
As she passed us fading slowly,
cloaked by fog from which she came.
Something made her seem unholy,
hiding with the fog her name.
Who could say what fate she’s seen then,
or what story she could tell.
Could she be the Flying Dutchman?
If she is we’re doomed to hell!
Nancy Davis: I have been writing poetry seriously for two years now. I love sonnets and I tend to do the dramatic and sad although I am normally a happy person except for the loss of my husband which prompted me to write. My poetry comes from my heart and it comforts me. I love poetry and I am learning more about it every day!