The End of Dr. Syn

Inspired by the Wyeth painting 'Dr. Syn'

The ship was deserted and empty

Except for the captain's chair

where sitting with his coat still upon him

Was a man with bones picked bare.

no shirt on his breathless chest,

No pants or belt or hat

Only shoes and his blue velvet coat

To warm him as he sat.

He had been a sailor during life

With no one to call his kin

But he was kind and liked by all,

And his name was Dr. Syn.

Beside the corpse, there was only me,

A stowaway sans luck,

Who thought this ship was bound for Spain

And now was wholly stuck.

Day after day the doctor sat

Resolute and all alone.

Waiting for a storm to come and

Pull him down to depths unknown.

But I, I worked through all that time

To eat and sail our ship

I managed to break the kitchen's lock,

Though, I confess using the doctor's hip.

Syn wasn't much for talking,

A side effect of death

But I would sit and ramble

On the floor, just to his left.

I won't say he was good for company

But on that bare, half rotten ship

I was grateful for the skeleton's

Unwitting companionship.

I remember the very day it happened,

The last I saw that ship,

A wind rose up from the south

And our boat started to dip.

Rain began to pound the deck

And the sea turned white with froth

As up, high overhead on the mast

The wind ripped through sailcloth.

The deep green waves ran end on end

The air, thick with salt

As a rush of wind poured through the cabin

Of the ship, turned burial vault.

The ship twisted and tossed about,

Spilling Dr. Syn from his chair,

And all the world to me it seemed

Was then more wave than air.

Down went our mast

With a resounding crack,

Sending shivers through the ship,

prompting me to run on deck.

The wind whipped hard against my face

And rain drove damp into my hair.

I knew it was time to quit the ship

But not sure that I would dare.

I needn't have worried, my life is such

That fate often decides for me,

And a second after my arrival on deck

A wave swept me into the sea.

I found the mast, It floated still,

I hung on till storm's end

And in the morning I could see

A beach of pure white sand.

I made my way to this new shore,

And eventually to Spain,

But I can never forget the skeleton

That stayed with me 'til the rain.

Years after I left that ship behind

I met Syn's old school friend

Who told me that Syn had wanted that

Proper 'Viking' end.

And then, my questions answered,

I moved on and lived my life

but always was that ship on mind,

Its sailor, and its strife.

Now, you may not believe it when I tell you,

Be it in a bar, cafe, or inn

But I swear to you I saw that storm

And the end of Dr. Syn.