Poems for the Brave

The Pirate's Call Part 1

Above the bowels of this hollow ship
Planks streak the mildewed deck 
There are monsters, gouls of
Unspeakable feuds
Because this is the ship of the dead.
No yo, Ho, no bottle of rum
Do these foul fiends devour
Because these are the children
To whom the night was given
To writhe in death by the hour.
Alas when the dawn lifts her rosy cheeks
And the sunlight swathes the water
There is no smoke
To cloak the ghosts
As they vanish like lambs for slaughter.
A twinkling dance caresses the ocean
In her turquoise shawl of bright blue
The Dolphins sing
And a sweet southern wind
Brushes the cheeks of a dewy eyed girl.
She's leant to the mast of a sailing ship
Gliding with power, grace through the waves
It's rich and darker
Filled with life and laughter
The merry sea men dance all day.
But her heart longs for a better world
Where adventure, danger is her way
She'll fight with swords
Drink rum when she's bored
And find buried treasure every day.
"Girl!" Her stringent father calls
His sharpness rupturing her wandering thoughts
With his wig and his rules
And his nasty mind tools
He is prison, hell and a bore.
She turns and he scolds her for dreaming
Aboard his fine vessel and showing her knickers
To the kitchen boy?
What kitchen boy!
And her small smile is like light on the water.
Her poncy Lord father does take her inside
But before vanishing there she slows
For in the distance
Across the ocean's iridescence
She's certain of a pirate's call, drawing close.