And there it is! The last poem of my Children’s Alphabet written ( not quite in order!)
And with my agent.
That was fun.
Now to write the companion volume of An Alphabet of children’s poems for Parents…
X MARKS THE SPOT
A map must be found
in a cave
Underground
Near a beach on wild seas
Where the water sweeps in
with an unearthly din
And runs all round the cave
With a rush and a roar
Leaving a tangle of weed
On the floor
As the water sucks out..
In the weed
Is a bag
Full of salty wet sand
And half buried inside
Is a chest made of wood
Ribbed with iron gone red
Flaking off from the rust
Of the years on the floor
Of the ocean itself
In the dimness and dark.
In the chest
Is a map
Rotting now in the folds
Yellow, dog-eared, forlorn,
Crisp to touch, dank to hold,
Of an island
A bay,
A tall ship
A large rock..
And right there,
In the centre,
An X
Marks the spot.
But what spot
Does it mark?
What is buried down there?
Is it crusty doubloons,
Is it ropes of dull pearls,
Is it wealth beyond dreams
Won through other men’s blood
In a raid or a war?
Or is it a curse?
The white bones of a death
That will rise in the light
Of the opening lid
And dance hideous jigs
As they take their revenge
On the unlucky kid
Who revealed what was hid
From the merciless sky?
Well; who knows?
Would you be a hero?
Would you be the one
Brave enough
To find out?
Rather you, friend,
Than I!