2 December 2012
Water crashed in the sun-kissed bay,
On the most radiant, florid day,
Made verdant by the Sea Grape trees,
The best in all the Seven Seas,
I stood below the battered deck,
Of a beyond decrepit wreck,
The captain lay dead on the floor,
A split figurehead on the briny shore,
And it was the fault of stormy waves,
That all the sailors met their graves,
The tattered sails looked far from grand,
The masts were impaled in the sand,
Fish swam right into the hull,
Red crabs explored a mossy skull,
The port side looked just like a reef,
In the ocean's power I held belief.
The Wreck • Opuss № I