Shipwrecked

We’re shipwrecked on Jackson’s Isle,
Digging in the river washed sand
For some old pirate’s treasure.
What must be in this wild land,
Where the ghosts go to hide?

Digging in the river washed sand
Seems like a chore or bore to some
But it really is the highlight of adventure,
Compared to life where we are from,
So we continued with our bent spoons.

For some old pirate’s treasure
Is buried deeper than others,
And rather it exists here or not
And rather I have my druthers
Digging holes is never a bad thing.

What must be in this wild land,
In the middle of a mighty river
Where the currents hide mystery
And haunts make me shiver
As I think about haunted spaces.

Where the ghosts go to hide
Is where I like to seek solace.
That is better than an old chest
In lands left by pirates lawless,
Where the ghosts go to hide.