Drowned sailors lie in St. Mary's Graveyard In the Devon fishing village of Appledore Lifted from the water, lain below the ground Long lie the many men, lured from land and drowned Birdsong lulls my footfall. They hear neither sound Flesh and cares have fled from dull bones bared and browned Silent strands like sea weeds wrap them round and round Tides of time now trap them near where waves still pound These the seas that left them lifeless, lost then found Borne ashore by mourners, stored where all are bound The graveyard, Appledore