{[ promptMessage ]}

Bookmark it

{[ promptMessage ]}


The_Golden_Hinde_poem - And smells of decaying and rot On...

Info iconThis preview shows pages 1–3. Sign up to view the full content.

View Full Document Right Arrow Icon
The Golden Hinde   Today we boarded a ship For our termly topical trip. We clambered up the gangplank Tightly gripping the rope from the bank. We clattered onto the deck Squashing onto this lovely old wreck. A Tudor sailor was our guide He showed us the ship with great pride. On the main deck we rang the bell To sailors the time it did tell. The end of each watch it did mark Or sighting of land it did hark. We peeked into the Captain’s cabin A small room with furniture sagging On the main deck squeezed into the bow Away from the squalor and row Of the sailors bent double below ‘Cause the ceiling was terribly low.
Background image of page 1

Info iconThis preview has intentionally blurred sections. Sign up to view the full version.

View Full Document Right Arrow Icon
Those sailors were constantly wet As water poured through in a jet No windows or cosy portholes No fires with hot burning coals But massive great cannons and shot
Background image of page 2
Background image of page 3
This is the end of the preview. Sign up to access the rest of the document.

Unformatted text preview: And smells of decaying and rot. On this deck the sailors would sleep And through their clothes urine would seep As bathrooms just could not be found Within this confusing compound Where animals lived with the crew The noise was most deafening too. We crouched down to move round this floor Went down the stairs with a great roar Beneath was the store or the hold Where sailors were punished of old By nailing their hand to a pole Discomfort and pain was the goal. The life of a sailor was tough The seas and their treatment quite rough Their life board the ship was so bleak I couldnt have lasted a week Without the least bit of pleasure Though I wish I had all of their treasure. Rona Dixon February 2006...
View Full Document

  • Fall '11
  • Nokes
  • main deck, termly topical trip, lovely old wreck, hot burning coals, massive great cannons, treasure. Rona Dixon

{[ snackBarMessage ]}