Press Gang

I’m told the press gang’s come to town,
For sailors to recruit,
But I get seasick in the bath,
Honestly I do,

So I’ve devised myself a master plan,
That though I say myself,
Comes so close to genius,
In appearance, guile and stealth,

That if the press gang get me,
And my freedom is purloined,
It’s because some Judas turned me in,
For a bag of silver coins,

You see, what I did was don the garb,
Of a pre-pubescent boy,
And spent my time with other kids,
Just playing with their toys,

My complexion it has long been said,
Belies my actual age,
And my acting skill, I’m often told,
Outshines many on the stage,

Therefore I can say with confidence,
That they will not get me,
It will take a smarter gang than them,
To send this fellow off to sea,

My deception worked quite well for days,
And my confidence was high,
Then they began to get suspicious,
Though I couldn’t tell you why,

Perhaps someone turned me in,
The way I thought they might,
But I kept my cover story up,
Hoping it would be alright,

But they caught me late one Monday,
Still dressed up like a lad,
They said, “You’ll have to join the navy”,
But I said, “You’ll have to ask my dad”,

“I’m only ten years old you know,
I’m somewhat under age”,
Their faces turned to purple,
As they flew into a rage,

As if they didn’t believe me,
Or they just didn’t want to hear,
“You’re a full grown man”, they screamed at me,
As they grabbed me by the beard.


By S.E.Ralph

9-2-2016