Poetry

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I remember back, when young -
the pirate tales from grandpa's tongue -
where peg-legged men with but one eye
sought their treasures, chanced to die.

Captain Pirate had a hook
and he cared not from whom he took.
They boarded ships and stole the goods -
then hid their treasures in the woods.

On the ship - he had some men
they'd help him rob now and again.
And then they partied and they drank -
if one was rude, he'd walk the plank.

Captain Pirate wasn't fair -
and got so drunk he didn't care.
It didn't matter who he killed,
just so his humor was fulfilled.

A bit close, I happened near -
lost both my boots and lost my gear.
They tied me up that very night.
My wrists had hurt. The rope was tight.

One pulled quick, his shiny sword -
then threw me on that weathered board.
The ocean deep, the water black.
The sword I felt, point on my back.

I stepped out, again, again,
from nudges felt in earthly sin.
The steps I took were very short
but that old plank gave me support.

I thought quick but I took pause -
reflecting on lifes silly laws.
Blinded by life's codes and rules,
I had nothing - them, the jewels.

Hoping here on earth I'd stay,
through life I stepped from day to day.
But this I knew - could not pretend -
this plank was short. There was an end.

Weight pushed low the outer ledge,
then toes could feel the corner's edge.
No turning back, what's done is done -
no place to turn - no place to run.

Bodies end with earthly goals -
as all life ends - but not the souls.
Emotions quake as body shakes,
but after death - my soul awakes.

They held truth (though they got old)
those pirate tales that grandpa told -
but futile is a life that's wed,
with both the soul and body dead.

©2009 louis gander (8-20-09) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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