15 September 2012
Open the sea was, to the sailors delight The air was clean and the wind light, A COOK there was, hard at work Arranging the barrels where the rats did lurk Rocking to and fro the ship danced Shipmen following suite and pranced Along the creaking floorboards wet and frail They slept as little as a nightingale.
The CAPTAIN standing round and fat Walking to and fro with a triangular hat Red was his face, black was his beard Red wine and meat down his coat was smeared Branded was he, single sight he had got Gift of two eyes removed with a single shot. He did not lament on this, nor did his crew For his lust for revenge grew and grew.
A BOSEN sailed too, his whip shy of blood Used to keep the oxen ploughing through the mud Crooked was his nose, sharp were his eyes Keeping a close watch on the rum supplies Cold was his walk raddled were his clothes Formally used to scare off the crows
A MERCHANT lay beneath the fray Counting his coins day by day Trading was his skill, sly was his tongue New was his face, not old but young No more than twenty three I should say Beside the captain’s chambers he lay
An OFFICER perched writing his account, A pistol he had and cannon he could mount A wise man brave and genteel Any mistakes he made, endeavoured to conceal From Cornwall was he, black was his coat Through day and night he wrote.
A BOY there was, clumsy and stupid Aboard he is unknown, at home he is cupid He was a mischievous lad from Irish roots Accepted into the navy with the English recruits A candle he would leave above the gunpowder Two strokes he did receive, which got louder As he repeated his mistake again and again Having lash eight, nine and ten
A COOPER too travelled the sea Storing food, where ever it may be Preserving its life and salting the pork Never used a spoon, a knife or a fork Round he was, fat was his belly His face did ripple like newly made jelly Forced aboard from The Francis Drake His allegiance he did well to fake
The HELMSMAN stood at the wheel Often sneaking to the kitchen to steal For thin he was, starved and broken Nothing he had but a silver token Taken it was from a ships plunder Before the storm, the wind and the thunder Brave little fellow he stood proud Trouble hearing the restless crowd
The Ship • Opuss № I