In 1912 a ship slipped under waters icy blue, as Hartley and his band played to passengers and crew,
Today back in harbour domestics and support workers sing and smile, the backbone who make it all worth our while,
'Yes mister no mister’ as a mop drags across the floor, or eggs cracked onto a hot plate with food that is always top rate,
All done without complaint and sometimes rocking hips or tapping feet, a broken radio but always upbeat,
Yet red faces tired with old tattoos or faded jewels, and hardened eyes that look straight at you,
For these are the things education could not teach me to do, and so I salute each and everyone of you.
~ G McK