a crow’s command

I be a common salty once no captain's bars, did bear yet blessed was I to venture where few a skipper dared from crow's nest high aloft I saw those bright coast beacons wink thru biting spray's December gale what shoals and reefs would sink for countless days I rocked atop that oaken spar’s good length as wake and skies conveyed my eyes Lord Neptune's sullen strength busy dogs, the mates and jacks bent hard while tasked below as toward the sky, a glass to eye my post waved to-and-fro first was I to e'er spot land my voice, the first to yell first to sight the skull and bone and raise loud warning bell "thar she blows!" was oft' my cry if spied foamed breach, had I and "friend or foe?!?" the question barked when strange sails split the sky but moments to becalm my soul as swells tick-tocked the time were star-filled nights, a bullion moon and the phosphorescent brine the darkest times were battlements when the ship groaned in its might but never dark, those eventides - sea and vault - awash with light! quite rare it was to find this tar midst the deck or down below and rarer still would I abdicate my realm there, high the crow well, I'm adrift on shore now with old brittle bones and gray yet in my lubber's mind I still climb masts to watch and sway I bounce wee kin on knobby knees and spin those swabbie tales - of Elmo's Fire and scorching skies wild battles, storms, and whales and when the angels task me to one new and heav'nly crow I'll bend gaze to a looking glass and give a hearty "tally-ho!" Copyright © 2018 Gregory Richard Barden