Captain MacLeod's Widow, and Her Chair

Once commanding the deck of the cabin,
It sits proudly in her front room.
Full west, steering round the point of the bay,
A sea widow sits in remembrance
Far beyond the eleventh hour.

With forward list bearing a little to port,
She sits in stillness and sobriety.
His ship decommissioned, gliding into a scrapyard,
No longer required for Her Majesty’s Service,
Destined for the bottom of the ocean,
Engines silenced forever and a day.

When the dark ship comes,
She will welcome its frowning prow,
Ascend that strange slipway,
Cast away her memories
Like slipping off a shroud
To dream forever with him.