Gift

We have waited many years for this.
Oh the days and months and years.
Decades down the ages, up till now.

Then one day out of the blue it was.
A gift from God, manna from Heaven.
Drifted in all silent like a briny ghost.

We be patient, but not so very slow.
‘Tis all hands now, all hands down
Down to the beach; the pickings.

Rich pickings bobbing on the waves.
Containers laden down with booty.
So come grab your fill and more.

Load up the bags, fill up your car.
Drag it right up the pebbly beach.
In hands and under arms, gather up.

We cared not for the government
Men of old, nor do we now care
For the receivers, salvage lackeys.

Way back when we were wreckers.
Way back we lured them into rocks.
Way back we took our spoils, as now.

Martin Delemare
23rd January 2007