The Ghost of Rhosilli Bay  II.

 

In vigilant silence through damp misty spray,

While cloud ragged moonlight shines mournful despair

On the cold muddy beaches of Rhosilli Bay,

The spectre stands waiting with hands clasped in prayer.

 

When a storm battered ketch from the port of Ross Lair,

Ran aground on the sandbanks of shingle and clay,

The crew lined the deck, to the shore they did stare.

In vigilant silence through damp misty spray.

 

For a lifeboat’s arrival, they watch as they pray;

In its bow, man with lantern sheds sepia glare,

Guiding oars through surf’s tumbling waves cold and grey,

While cloud ragged moonlight shines mournful despair.

 

Reaching hand out to help them, in horror they stare,

Wall of water engulfs him, ebb tide sweeps away.

In the darkness, they all have shed many a tear,

On the cold muddy beaches of Rhosilli Bay.

 

Time creeps so slowly from that dismal March day,

When the bride made her vows in bliss unaware.

For her true love, the hero cruel waves took for play,

The spectre stands waiting with hands clasped in prayer.

 

To the oceans of sorrow, her grief she will share,

When westerly winds bear the souls of the fey

Like the cry of the gull or the siren’s despair,

And moon rides white horses to break of the day;

In vigilant silence

 
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