The Ghost-Ship

How sad the song of the lost Miss Montauk
She rocks loose on the fearsome tempest waves
On days where darkness reigns over the mint sea
And see she glows eerie light afar and draws near
I fear the Miss Montauk and the ghast of her sight
At night with salt-bitten boards and ruined mast
Cast like a lunar mirror a vicious green and blue
A hue of searing moans that cut through ocean rain
And vainly bellows operatic calls we sailors relate
Her fate consumed by waters and still she haunts
Wants and wishes drowned in the storm and sleet
To meet with eyes and ears of strangers who gaze
Through haze and hail as she yaws on falling spray
A ways from a home port that Miss Montauk knows
No glow nor song could reach far enough to find
Reminding her crew in the midst of a terrible rime
Their time cannot end for even they scuttled the boat
And floated toward some coast on ectoplasmic-wood
And could the stop churning waves and revolted sun
None of them can go home for they have no home to go