Thursday, 23 July 2009

The Smugglers

Now landing on the darkling shore
Mooncrested waves upon the sand
Stones crunching, as if ancient lore
Psammead stirring under land

Lantern lit, the smugglers come
Barnacled boats upon the beach
Chests of contraband for some
And gold for crew's share each

Night riders galloping in night
Away from the Custom spies
Upon the dunes, out of sight
Hid from the Excise eyes

Drink beneath a smugglers moon
With yo ho ho, a merry tune.

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