an onslaught of blustery wind blew across the rocky cove where the hull of a cargo ship lay was caught in the turbulence of the rough sea as it sailed to the port town of Dalmont strong gales lashed the deck and broke the rigging such disaster befell the crew all perished on that moonless night with ferocity the elements did conspire against the ship and its hapless occupants no news of where the ship finally rested came to light until nineteen thirty five a coastal surveying team spotted the wreck a mile out to sea the ghostly skeletal hull sat askew on a rock ledge in a small dinghy they rowed toward the shore to make inquiry of the ship's remains the only object they found was the navigator's sextant
The poem is of my imagination. It was written some nine years ago.