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When sky is grey and east is clouded high
with ever coming stiffer breeze give mind
to take in sails and make things right with try
to keep bow pointed straight toward great swells kind.
Then we were close off coast of Java Isle
and she was pitching like oft one does find
in seas of vast strong blows, Neptune’s sour bile,
yet seen the harbor’s entrance plainly lined.

Give me to scold a pint of ale for safe
moor tie where we now wait on Captain’s mind
to pay for Java’s tea that doesn’t chafe
and stow below the crates that he has signed.
Now I’ve done my watch making tea is fine
all secured by strong lines that yea do bind
their cleats with bowline ties a careful sign,
this given order be on Captain’s mind.

Near tea sheds, along street where a man fights
for business during day hours, Kelna keeps
a saloon facing ocean’s harbor lights.
Above the place a bare room where he sleeps.
The Javanese locks saloon’s street door close
at night just before time when morning creeps,
that being time to leave for night’s friends, foes.
This know, a business record Kelna keeps.

Thought I’d have noggin right of Kelna’s ale,
it being rain and heat this Java night.
Can’t say for sure why Sooling like this sail,
but she came close to me with smile just right,
her eyes black like two crow wings flying near,
hips swaying time to music quite a sight.
Took Sooling by the hand finding table rear,
where we sat talking ending Java night.



Now I walked Sooling close to my ship, Gale,
ship’s grace well hidden by a moonless night,
a fetching dame beating the seas in sail,
full blown whose shape was a breath taking sight.
Near Sooling’s tea keep’s old shed where she made
her wage for keeping a bamboo hut site,
on finger prized possession piece of jade,
saw we hut’s gain at breaking morning light.
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