Peter Tare

By Will Day

Waters blackened by veil of darkness
Calling forth to he who dares
Velvet breeze and sudden fury
Hunting ground of the Peter Tares

Iron men in wooden warships
Dimly seen by moon’s pale glow
Guns and torpedoes at the ready
Creeping death for a stubborn foe

With setting sun they ventured seaward
Then throughout the lonely night
Prowled through strange and narrow waters
Searching, searching….poised to strike

Every man scanning the inky blackness
Watching, listening with sweaty brow
Until at last, the call to battle:
”Enemy ship off the starboard bow!”

Nothing out there....Are they crazy?
Night and water, wind and tide
Wait! Something looming, black and deadly
Hell come calling from the other side

Slowly, quietly close the target
Pulses racing, nerves stretched tight
Then weapons voice their deadly rattle
And the engines’ roar fills the night

Fire and blood and sound and fury
Battle raging, night gone wild
Streams of tracer lick the target
Enemy bullets seek the child

Hits, explosions, Death flames spreading
One more run and he’s gone for good
Then back to seaward, open water
Swallowed by darkness' friendly hood

Taking stock now, how much damage?
Reload weapons; tracer, ball
Still three hours of night’s protection
Find another….Sink ‘em all

Peter Tares, the wooden warriors
Glory trailed in their silver wake
Their deeds were many, their numbers few
And they were expendable, for Freedom’s sake