a poem by Firoz Latheef

One fine morning in the seafront of Southampton,
A giant liner black and red stood on the bay.
It was indeed heavy weighing many a ton,
Named the Titanic from where it lay.

The Ship of Dreams stood still and bright
All set to make it’s debut flight
The anchor was pulled with a clank
As the Titanic left the English bank.

The Titanic sailed on like a king
As a ship that would not sink
The biggest at that time on the sea
She was all set for a spirited spree.

The evening sun set in the west
With the last day of this iron beast
The Royals had supper on bread and wine
And a dozen damsels to entertain.

The night on the Atlantic grew very cold
Forcing many blankets to unfold
A few had covered their heads
While some others went early to their beds.

A mere fifteen minutes to midnight
The mast-man saw something huge and bright
Immediately he threw on it his light
And screamed ‘Iceberg right ahead’ on it’s sight.

That enormous piece of ice which lay
Still and deep in the Titanic’s way
His attempt at evasive action went futile
And the starboard side struck the ice pile

The crew knew well of all it’s dangers
Ordered the passengers to be in their chambers
The captain said there was nothing to fear
And supplied everyone with life-belts to wear

Lifeboats left the sinking ship partly filled
As the dejected stood on the deck grilled
Water rushed through the grand staircase
And overflowed the deck with great pace

Finally she sunk to her grave
With none being able to save
The most luxurious ocean-liner of her day
Became the greatest maritime disaster on display

Today she lie deep and deep in the Atlantic
With rust ending the elegant touch of the Titanic
Her ornate woodwork been devoured
And massive steel plates been dissolved.