My Godfather Went
Down With The Ship
The metal deck was buckling in the heat, eyes stinging with
acrid smoke, he could hear the screams of the crew as they
leapt over the side of the ship, flames flickered closer as
the air grew black with oily smoke, he knew he had very
little time, moving forward he sheltered behind the bridge,
he took a deep breath and lifted his face, a patch of blue
sky shone for a moment between the clouds of black smoke...
swallows, on their way north, their red bibs vivid against
the blue. The boy's voice came clear through the smoke...
help, please help! The lead bird swooped lower...
please... take my spirit home... and closing his
eyes the boy slumped to the deck as the ship tilted and
with a hiss of steam slipped below the waves...
The swallow, catching the spirit tucked it below his wing
feathers... days later arrived in the small highland
village where they nested every year... the old house was
mellow in the evening sun, and the windows shone welcome...
the gardens were lush and green after the dust of Africa,
trees offered shade, the pond looked cool, and the eaves of
the summerhouse still held the remains of last year's nest.
Lavender, warm after the days sun, scented the air, and
roses trailed up the faded blue wooden walls. Swooping
joyously the swallow saw the doors of the summerhouse wide
open, the old deck chairs stacked against the walls,
stripes faded from the sun, a shelf on the wall held an old
tea set, painted with flowers, under the window stood an
old sofa, its once rosy chintz faded over the years, and
smelling slightly of damp, the arms frayed from the touch
of many hands. It looked sad and lonely. Swooping low the
swallow released the spirit, and soaring out through the
door his song of happiness could be heard from the house.
Years passed, the summerhouse in use again was happy, a
small boy and his sister came to play, using the old china
for pretend tea parties, sitting on the old sofa, feet not
quite reaching the floor, they would drink make believe tea
from the flowery cups... beside them sat a small blonde boy
with deep blue eyes, dressed in a white silk sailor suit,
in his small hands he held a model battleship bristling
with guns, on the bow the name was clear... HMS Hood.
