Ghost Ship

A ghost ship on a moonlit, silvery sea,
It rides the waves, waiting for me,
The Penland was the phantom ship,
Saved from the Holocaust was I,
On its very last trip,
For it was sunk on its return,
Left in mid-seas by subs to burn,
Sometimes in dreams I see my ghost
Sailing the moonlit, silver seas,
The Penland as my host.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2006 Alfred Charasz