A storm, shoals and wicked surprises are in store before this long night is through
We're on the run of fox and hounds
The launch behind is not that sound
but a pair of straight eight Packards
Are driving her hull to fast forward
She's not built for weather but her master
Knows that his boss is a bastard
with a long arm and a merciless heart
for those who loose his precious quarts
The Jake is making way quite well
but the launch astern is breasting swells
and gaining on us over time
There's no doubt we'll have to pay the dime
The border's close but no cigar
unless he turns at the US door
By gar he's breached the border now
We're in for trouble come on old scow
And scow he is that makes me think
There's a way out of this nasty stink
Jake's flat bottomed with centerboards
We'll head for shallows and mark my word
That launch will ground as sure as hell
While we slide through without having to bail
Young Jim haul the boards and be aware
Watch the trim and balance or there'll be a scare
The Jake is top heavy without his ballast
Hung well below his chines but He'll last
Long enough to draw that launch
To those hungry rocks to be their lunch
The trick worked well and we slid by
We watched the launch explode and Biye
I'll tell you true that master flew
out of that craft and into the spew
Now Sailing's hard and dying a fact
but I couldn't see that fellow racked
up on Pelee's shore a corpse all white
For the world to see so we hauled up tight
On another tack then jibed around
To find him barely hanging on
Young Jim Tossed him out a ring
And the fellow grasped it as his last thing
Hauled him aboard then we thought
What do you do with a nasty sort
Who would have left us there to drown
If the tables were turned and we were aground
on Pelee Isle there lived a guy
Would help us out and not ask why
He's a thinker Philosopher they say
But good in a scrap if come what may
He got a name but no one knows
It cause he uses Fog and woes
the man who laughs at that
He's a quiet man but he'll cut no slack
Jim hauled this bad guy over the rail
Gave him kill devil to keep him hail
Then trussed him up and asked his name
Ness he said with a look of shame
That's all we got he clammed up tight
just sat there dripping a sorry sight
We altered course for Scudder Town
On Pelee Isle about four miles down
The storm had left us far behind
A good thing too that the weather was kind
We turned starboard to sight the range
and into Scudder Town we came
That's it for now I'll be back in time
By gar I'm almost out or rhyme
Poetry by josephus
Read 574 times
Written on 2019-03-15 at 14:56
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Part IV The Laird Jake... Stranger Than True...
We're on the run of fox and hounds
The launch behind is not that sound
but a pair of straight eight Packards
Are driving her hull to fast forward
She's not built for weather but her master
Knows that his boss is a bastard
with a long arm and a merciless heart
for those who loose his precious quarts
The Jake is making way quite well
but the launch astern is breasting swells
and gaining on us over time
There's no doubt we'll have to pay the dime
The border's close but no cigar
unless he turns at the US door
By gar he's breached the border now
We're in for trouble come on old scow
And scow he is that makes me think
There's a way out of this nasty stink
Jake's flat bottomed with centerboards
We'll head for shallows and mark my word
That launch will ground as sure as hell
While we slide through without having to bail
Young Jim haul the boards and be aware
Watch the trim and balance or there'll be a scare
The Jake is top heavy without his ballast
Hung well below his chines but He'll last
Long enough to draw that launch
To those hungry rocks to be their lunch
The trick worked well and we slid by
We watched the launch explode and Biye
I'll tell you true that master flew
out of that craft and into the spew
Now Sailing's hard and dying a fact
but I couldn't see that fellow racked
up on Pelee's shore a corpse all white
For the world to see so we hauled up tight
On another tack then jibed around
To find him barely hanging on
Young Jim Tossed him out a ring
And the fellow grasped it as his last thing
Hauled him aboard then we thought
What do you do with a nasty sort
Who would have left us there to drown
If the tables were turned and we were aground
on Pelee Isle there lived a guy
Would help us out and not ask why
He's a thinker Philosopher they say
But good in a scrap if come what may
He got a name but no one knows
It cause he uses Fog and woes
the man who laughs at that
He's a quiet man but he'll cut no slack
Jim hauled this bad guy over the rail
Gave him kill devil to keep him hail
Then trussed him up and asked his name
Ness he said with a look of shame
That's all we got he clammed up tight
just sat there dripping a sorry sight
We altered course for Scudder Town
On Pelee Isle about four miles down
The storm had left us far behind
A good thing too that the weather was kind
We turned starboard to sight the range
and into Scudder Town we came
That's it for now I'll be back in time
By gar I'm almost out or rhyme
Poetry by josephus
Read 574 times
Written on 2019-03-15 at 14:56
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
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Lawrence Beck |