Riding on the seven seas
In the belly of an iron whale
The hungry bellies of the green-clad men
Are never full.
To pass the hours, cribbage and dice
Sharing smokes and telling lies
Bragging and boasting,
Choking back fear, the unseen future toasting
The return back to lovers and mothers stateside
Cruising through sub-feasted waters
Paving a zig-zag survival road through the waves
Trusting the look-outs’ eyes
And the sonar’s ears
Dakar-bound, an exotic destination
For the entire company
Riding on the highway of the sea.
He gets up every morning,
Puts his kettle on for tea
Dresses smart and goes down
Into the bowels of London Town.
To read the report from over the wires
The shipping and troop-ships’ progress
So he can plot their progress on their courses
On the world-wide map that fills the wall
Floor to ceiling, it fills the wall.
Just his job to be certain that the leaders
Can see at first glance how many tons
Of men and materiel have been sunk
And how many Allied crews are still afloat
Riding on the seven seas.
(c)2007 Steven B. Eulberg