And here's a poem I'd like to dedicate to the charred bones of the Cutty Sark but with the hope that she will rise and sail again from her ashes; it's by old sailor-poet Harry Kemp:

From CHANTEYS AND BALLADS, by Harry Kemp, published by Brentano's, New York, US, © 1920, p. 54.

The Wreck

Seared bone-white by the glare of summer weather,
Cast side-long, on the barren beach she lies,
She who once brought the earth's far ends together
And ransacked East and West for merchandise.

The sea-gulls cluster on her after-deck
Resting from the near seas that wash and fall . . .
But, I have heard, at night this side-cast wreck
(When all the belfry bells at midnight call)

Puts up sail and goes out past mortal seeing:
Once more the oceans break beneath her will
And she resumes the breath of her old being;
She lives the dreams that slumber in her still.

Thrilling as down the windy Dark she slopes,
Ecstatic, as her sails grow great with wind –
She feels the seamen walking with her ropes,
The harbour dropping like a star behind.

Cheerily,
Charley Noble