I see the Eastern rise
Ladies seem to like my charm
I wink at the one with cute eyes
But I’m swinging from the yardarm
The officers didn’t feel the same
They wanted me keelhauled
Thinking this would end my shame
But pirates survive & they remain appalled
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
Yardarms swing with the coming storm
The moored ships rock on the rising waves
Only those tied loose will withstand the blow
Sailors don’t have tombstones to adorn a grave
Sitting out on the porch swing
Skirt spread flat over rocking legs
Exhausted from the daily routine
Tired of sharing life with the dregs
Closing weary eyes to dream again
Imagining a reassuring, masculine form
Knowing this could finally be different
This could be comfort in the coming storm
Captain Q 