Old Salt

In the corner of a pub
There sits an old sea dog
He tells the same old stories
His mind is full of fog

“Ahoy, me hearties! Pass the rum
And I’ll spin you a yarn of old
About the time I was a pirate
A tale I’ve rarely told”

“I’ve sailed the ocean blue
I’ve had a bounty on me head
Sailing under the Jolly Rodger
Doom and fear we spread”

“Few ships could out run
My ship the Whores Desire
Those that got too close
Came under ferocious cannon fire”

“Aye, I’ve scuppered many a vessel
That dared to happen by
Captives had just two choices
To join us or to die”

“My ship did on occasion
Have mutineers, alas
Those scurvy dogs soon saw my point
The point of me cutlass”

“I used to stand upon the deck
With me parrot on me shoulder
But, pirating became less fun
As I was growing older”

“I buried many a treasure
On islands of such beauty
But, my ageing mind was playing tricks
I forget where I buried the booty”

“Aye, I was an old sea dog for sure
But me memory had gone
No pieces of eight to be found
I’d sailed me last horizon”

“A pirate captain is no good
If his mind has gone all blank
It’ll end up only one way
A short walk along the plank”

“So that’s me story, all there is
There’s no more to be told
Ahoy, me hearties! Pass the rum
And I’ll spin you a yarn of old”

And so we’ll leave the old salt there
And his constant repetition
Three sheets to the wind, repeating yarns
To anyone who cares to listen

©Gary Wayne Hill, 2019
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace