To Home We Sail
To Home We Sail
In sight of land
To home we sail,
The boats manned,
Oars to rail,
When every hand,
Pressed and frail,
Will cross the sand
To Maidenvale.
Where taverns stand
In rain and gale,
With fires fanned
And frothy ale,
Where folk demand
A pirates tale
Of contraband
And fine regale.
O to England,
To home we sail,
Where soldiers stand
And women wail,
Where gallows span
From copse to dale,
By King's command
To rot in jail.
©RJVHorton2016?
Copyright © Robert Horton | Year Posted 2016
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