That Sinking Feeling

This is a poem about yet another 2012 special date - in fact a centenary.  I won't say what it is - you need to read the poem to find out!

That Sinking Feeling

What a fine April morning to travel:

At last I’m my own master,

But the thing that’s worrying me

Is, can’t this train go any faster? 

I’m already hungry & thirsty,

But those problems must wait.

If we don’t get there pretty smartish,

I’m afraid I’m going to be late.

For that steamer sure won’t delay,

If I don’t get there in time.

She’ll be departing in two hours,

Sailing across the Atlantic rime. 

All that I possess is in this suitcase,

For I’m alone now, with no wife,

To try my luck in America,

And to try to start a new life.

For there’s nothing for me here now,

England’s become nowt but a cage.

There’s no work & no social,

And no way to make a living wage.

So I’ve decided to strike out for the new:

Got to do something to lick it,

And I’ve saved and I’ve borrowed,

Just to afford my third-class ticket.

At last – here we are at Southampton,

As the train shudders & rocks.

I hope it’s not far I’ve got to go,

To find my ship moored up in the docks. 

It’s been a long journey, my case is so heavy,

I don’t want to be walking around,

But there’s bands playing and a great crowd -

After all, my ship is easily found.

She’s just over there, not far to walk.

There’s three different gang-planks,

Going right up into the ship:

A different one for every rank. 

But what’s this? My ticket is lost!

I’ve searched myself all around,

In my jacket & coat pockets,

But the thing is nowhere to be found!

I can’t come all of this way,

Only to fail at the last minute.

Oh, where’s that blasted ticket

Where had I last seen it?

Then, Thank God, the panic is over -

I needn’t have been in a stew.

I had it all along I was sure,

I’d tucked it into my shoe! 

So finally up the gangplank:

I’m only travelling steerage.

I’d love to go into First Class,

But that would require a peerage! 

The ship is crowded & busy.

My below-decks cabin is cramped.

So I’ve stowed my gear quickly

And up the staircases I’ve tramped. 

Then onto the deck & join in the cheering.

I need not have been in such a panic.

There’s even time to gaze down at the nameplate.

My new life starts here – on the SS Titanic!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2011