Long she sailed, in the reckoning of her time.

From persecution, it was said, she fled;
Proud promise of freedom billowing in her sail.

Those who rode in her thrived; many great works they claimed,
And in their midst her abandoned spirit lay; they having become
Like those they left behind.

Is her keel sound, timbers strong, her masts straight and worthy?
It doesn’t matter!

There is no haven now that can house her spirit; no fertile place
To root and grow.

Her time and meaning have past and will not return,
Mayflower in the sand.