In our lifeboat we rowed in a darkened sea

We were mounted upon our splintered seats

As the sight of the RMS Carpathia slipped

beneath the waves – the year was 1918.

Once famous for rescuing survivors from the

RMS Titanic – we were torpedoed by a

German U-Boat; taking so many to join

the ghosts before us who didn’t make it.

Memories would now haunt us – smash upon

us as-to taunt and hamper; but we were on a

mission of our own, to try and get rescued; the

waves pulling us through the dark and the wet.

Years of the sea-life were muffled out by the

sounds of survivors screaming to get into a

lifeboat seemingly minutes before the inevitable

The collision of some sort and then the sinking.

A crew member aboard the Andrea Doria was

ordered by the ship’s captain to give a fresh

coat of paint to a certain ‘aging’ lifeboat, whose

once proud look had been stolen by the sea.

Taking a paint scraper to the side of the bow

Words started to appear in layers – RMS CARPATHIA

Then  HMHS BRITANNIC; followed-by RMS LUSITANIA

and lastly RMS TITANIC; and then . . .

Heavy fog began to roll-in like cannon fire – masking

the liner Stockholm; the stage was set, the two

goliaths collided,; into the weathered lifeboat passengers

filed, quickly suspending all activities; they survived.

Now, the lifeboat sits all alone with its’ stern turned

towards the sea – all ships names erased, no longer

able to save dear ones from watery graves; but having

served for 44 years when duty called . . .

‘2009’ RLS