My name is Ernest Henry Shackleton.

Today is an important day for me.

The choice I’ll make before the day is done,

Will steer the course for all of history.

I must select from thousands who applied,

The fifty men who’ll conquer the South Pole.

My rival Robert Scott, who tried, has died.

It’s up to me to pioneer his goal.

Indeed, as captain, I alone must choose

From these the final few: the Brave, the Proud.

Consulting with a mate would be no use;

I must debate their fates, alone, aloud.

The stakes of this impossibility

Impede my thoughts, but I refuse to stall.

Decisions, like all difficulties, see,

Are merely things to overcome, that’s all.

I must include this Wordie fellow - James -

A worthy, noble and good-humored Scot.

He’ll keep the waning woofits entertained,

The dilliest of beezers from the lot.

Another James - this bloke called Reginald -

Should tighten up the scientific reins.

His brain is big, but also I applaud

His plaqueless teeth, and varicose-free veins.

My pride was wounded when I recruited “Bert,” 

A Priestley physicist of world renown.

His smug rejection quickly lost its hurt:

I know his brother Ray won’t let me down.

Ah yes, these lads: Frank Wild and Thomas Crean,

Two Rootless Drifters round out my top five.

The former a tenacious ex-marine

And Tom - who last saw Captain Scott alive…

Egad, I feel my tightened throat is choked -

As I drift off asea into distress.

The sweat of indecision’s got me soaked,

My mind a creaking ship in need of rest.

My hands - this is the seventh time I’ve spun

The Johnston globe upon my libr’ry ledge.

I sense a missing piece, somewhere, someone:

How sharp it stings my heart, this anxious edge….

Who could it be? Who’ll steer us to the Pole?

I know the perfect officer exists.

If only I could scarper to a hole;

The trench I’ve dug here wringing out my wrists.

Excuse me, sir -                     

Not now! And can’t you knock?!

I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interfere.

What is it?

Have you not the time to talk?

Who are you, lad? What courage brought you here?

Hi, Sir. My name is Arthur Frank Worsley.

I took a stroll and chanced upon your sign.

“Antarctic Expeditions” - well, you see,

That’s always been the biggest dream of mine.

Say more about your dream, Frank, if you will.

And more importantly about your past.

What strength of character, what noble skill,

Would lead me to include you in my cast.

I’m glad you asked. I come from far away.

I’ve lived my life behind the mast at sea. 

With focused eyes, my ships have never strayed.

I only see what could - not couldn’t - be.

I’ve heard enough. I’ll trust my luck with you.

You represent the values I esteem.

So, welcome, Frank, to the Endurance crew.

With well-timed curiosity, it seems.

Please shut the door before you leave

Yes, sir.

And now, at last, my quandary is napoo.

The months ahead feel light off this pressure.

Can I come in?

What madness - who are you?!

Apologies, sir. I’m just passing by,

An entertainer with a heart of gold.

I’m fearless, resolute, steadfast, and sly,

Which you are looking for or so I’m told.

At least consider me, here, take my card.

You see: my name, phone number, and address.

I vow determination, working hard

With buoyancy, transcending hopelessness.

I’m Sorry, Charlie, you’re a minute late.

Though I appreciate your show and tell.

Don’t worry, fame might still be in your fate.

Good luck, “Charles Spencer Chaplin,” and be well.