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The Reluctant Sailor

I once was a farmer
I worked the land
I reaped the corn 
With a scythe in my hand

I ploughed my furrow
I sowed my seed 
I grew my crops
My family to feed

One day hot and thirsty 
With the sun going down
I went for to drink
At the alehouse in town

As I was a drinking
There at the Inn
Without any warning 
The press gang came in

So I was taken 
I was taken so fast
And told that my future 
Was before the mast

So in my fields 
I no longer plough 
Instead the wide ocean 
I must plough now

From hauling on ropes 
My hands are all torn
Sometimes I wish
I had never been born

Our captains a hard man
If one of us fails
He'll have us flogged
With a cat o' nine tails
                
When I climb the rigging
I oft times will find
I think of the family 
That I left behind

One day I'll jump ship
And I'll stay on shore
I'll serve the Kings navy
Never no more

I'll return to my loved ones
I'll go back to the land
Once more I will reap 
With my scythe in my hand

I've sailed the wide oceans
Seen Paris and Rome
But nothing compares
With my humble home


Denis Briggs

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 3/28/2018 6:41:00 PM
Hello Denis, your poem tells a tale that kept me reading, your poem I found to be exciting.Nice to meet you. Have a nice evening my friend.
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