You’re a questionable soul
Lying in the Captain’s brig
After drinking his scotch
& wearing his wife’s wig
Definitely conduct unbecoming
Her voice sounding the alarm
The man knows your name now
Surely you’ll swing from the yardarm
Stayed up all night trying to write
I still can’t get you out of my head
Sleep didn’t come easy this night
Giving anything to only go to bed
The clock ticks past two & three
Knowing there’s nothing I’m going to find
Off dreaming of nothing, where I want to be
Another scotch to still my racing mind
Image by Florian Pircher from Pixabay
Setting down the glass
Saying excuse me, dear
Wanting to focus
Making sure what I hear
Each word considered
Looking deep into your face
But I forget them all
When you’re only wearing lace
Captain Q 