Jurys Gap

Jurys Gap
________


Two miles away from Camber sands,
sits a bay pebbled where history stands,
by this smugglers pebbled whiskey soaked shore,
away from Rye where a fee was in store.
For smugglers from the Middle East found,
this haven stacked with no tax bound,
off loading foods, and jewels, and all that booze,
Jurys Gap was the port they'd choose.
No tax levied for boxes begot,
in Ye Olde Bell pub where hid they the lot,
and passages and tunnels below did they see,
from the pub to the point of the cargo so free.
So the gulls they screamed and the surf road strong,
and the wind and the rain battered so long,
for Jurys Gap sound of the pebbles in dark,
and the caskets and trunks unloaded full part.
Now the moon shines down with a grin,
on the cargo below with both rum and gin,
and bootleg whiskey from a distant shore,
far from the customs and excise score.
See through the window of Ye Olde Bell,
there sit the sailors who battled fair well,
through storm, and wave, and star lit night,
to reach this haven of smuggled delights.