Note in Ship's Log
 
Me boat would have capsized right off
were it not for the fact that samaritans
insist upon climbing aboard to provide
ballast and serve as lookouts.  Take charge
of the galley and swab out the head!   
In good weather and foul, one or more
can be counted upon to stand by in case
I  need them to take the wheel or eyeball
the chart with a better course in mind.
Avoiding sharks and other predators
and steering through mouth-cottoning
narrows is all in a day's work to them.
They help keep the tackle in shape
and watch to see nothing wraps around
the rudder.  Does, they are uncannily
good at untangling.   Ye can see yer  salt-
blasted mugs and ragged-arse pony tails
in the decks.  Started our own sewing bee.  
Smallest tear gets a patch.  Every sheet,
cleat, winch, and nautical whatchmadoodle
aces inspection.  Songs that make it over
the ocean's roar  gotta have Captain Queeg
and his like rattlin' their drydocked caskets.
Crew fancy themselves landlubbers.    
Remind me they stagger to the rail  when
wind whips waves to the towering monsters
with the long lightning-shaped tongues
that so easily drown.  When clouds pile
like enraged, bruise-colored man-o'-wars,  
when  lightning cracks and thunder
pounds, our knees give out, Cap.  Aye,
I aye.  And I be right beside ye.   But ye add  
the stability and balance it takes to stay
afloat.   If ye fall, ye pull up, don't ye.  
If I fall -- and I am bad to -- no way
ye are lettin' me stay down.   Pirates    
make yer day  if they call me fish bait.
If the reader is wanting sealegs,  pick out
a tub with  help from the High Admiral,
then spit-and-polish ye'self to the best
salt ye can be.  Believe me, a seaworthy
crew will find ye.  Stow-aways may pop
out of the hold and grab mops or skinny
up jacobs ladder.  Figure out where
ye want to go, then go.   Mates will let
ye know if ye veer off course.  Anchors
aweigh, ye salts, ye.  Anchors aweigh!!

(c) Phyllis Jean Green, August, 2009   --  All Rights Reserved