The ships a'float sa' why would a bloke, say nay, to the weather build'n? I got 'the itch', from a port side bitch, an' I wanna snore the day through. But the First Mate come, with his foot up our bum's...scrame'n in our ear!! "Ee ya want to live, ye'll give us sail...to pull away from 'ere, so's, put our head in the 'cawl o' the stew', or 'the briney' sink us all!!!"
It was 'a request' we cuh naw refuse, so we 'ups', from our considerations, and, alike, good pirates all...we hit for the tossing decks, and up the masts we go! We set the 'sheet's, so 'the helm' could grip...the feel of the racing roar, an' our anchor, still scrape'n coral tops...we faced the 'blowing banshee, as we crawled away from shore!
We made well away, but 'the whore', that day...took three bad men. One fell from the 'yard' o' the forward mast, and two was swept away...'shitting' themselves, on the aft! The 'sheets', was shred'd, Cap'n, fitted for fine...beller'n harder than a 'cast'rd' bull.
Mate's 'n me...we didn't think we'd get an award...fer 'shine', but the captain...he, 'n the first mate, be, like...'what the hell' 'n gee us all, a 'piece o' eight' and a 'hearty blow', from the chap in the barrel...fer free! 'Red sky in the morning, sailor's take warning', they say. Ye just never know's...wot's come'n yer way! For fair! Oy?
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Bow ship stormy sea, artist unknown, google image
Note: In the second paragraph, 'cawl o' the stew', and 'briney', are both expressions for the sea, or a stormy soup, of a sea. In the fourth paragraph, last line...'beller'n harder than a cast'rd bull.' Bellering harder than a castrated bull. All other terms, are inventions of mine...'piratey' talk!
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