Fiddlers Green

by | Jan 31, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

In days gone by no longer seen
The talk was of sweet ‘’Fiddlers green’’
An enchanted place far from ships and whalers
The final resting place of sailors
Where countless willing ladies come
With casks that never drained of rum
Fair wind blowing and flying fish
To satisfy each dying wish
Superstitions now long gone it seems
But perhaps they linger in your dreams


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *