THE STOWAWAY

When I was still a young boy,
I ran away from home;
From the banks of San Francisco,
To the shores of greater Nome.

I had no way of knowing,
Where the ship was headed for;
When I snuck aboard the schoner,
and I hid behind the door.

After many days of travel,
I was sitting by a slip;
When the captain caught me naping,
And he put me off the ship.

I knew not where we landed,
But I knew it wasn't home;
When they put me off at Fairbanks,
And I worked my way to Nome.

I'll be headed home tomarrow.
I bought passage on a ship;
I'll be glad to see my Mom and Dad,
And tell them of my trip.

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by Darrell Earnest Self

*This poem is published here exactly as written by the author - all spelling and grammatical errors are his.

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