A Pirate I Think He Was

I once knew a man with a gimpy leg. A pirate I think he was, but I never seen his wooden peg. He smoked his pipe in heaps of laughter, when lightening seemed to strike to low. A pirate I think he was, even though no one ever told me so. He watched the sea as if waiting for something or someone to return home. A pirate I think he was, even though nothing or no one ever showed. Then one day he passed away and there came a massive fleet. They sailed their flags proudly as the town folk sang, Danny Boy at his feet. A pirate I think he was and this l still believe. Even now as he rest in his long eternal sleep.