Dead bodies floating
So they called it Dead Man’s Reach
The tide ebbed and flowed
The ferryman sighed
T’was his job to retrieve them
They drifted downstream
From the tidal mill
Deserted for years and years
Now busy again!
He puffed on his pipe
Grappling hook at the ready
The tide on the turn
“Hoi! Take me across”
Said the stranger at the quay
He took the man’s coin
“Don’t the preacher moan?”
Words said by the shrouded man
“He’s got work enough”
“So you set them free
To feed those hungry fishes
And get thee to bed”
So business slacked off
The ferryman slept well
Gold coin in the pot
Image from www.i-mockery.com
