Pirate’s Song

One of my first memories of reading a book which might be considered a "classic" was Robert Louis Stevenson's "Treasure Island". The blind man, tap, tap, tapping. The Black Spot. Old Ben Gunn. All the trappings of adventure.

Later I enjoyed Russell Thorndyke's Dr Syn books, with their background in the piracy of Dr Syn, when the meek parson was actually the feared Captain Clegg. And there are also Pirates in Neverland, in Peter Pan, flying to a land of adventure.

There is something romantic about the sea, and about the treasure chest, whether buried on an island, or as in this poem, sunken treasure in Davy Jones' Locker. This poem is more dream than reality: it is like a dream of sailing the seven seas, of finding treasure, and the sheer joy of the wonderful adventure.

Pirate’s Song

I am soaring above in the clouds and the rain
Leaving far behind earthly sorrows and pain
Over the rainbow, spyglass sees a new land
Very lovely, rocky coast, sea and the sand
Every day I awake, and feel here I belong
Yesterday, swept there by currents so strong
Out of the harbour, my ship passes by rocks
Under the ocean, I seek a chest and its locks
Prying it open, I find my treasure inside
At breaking of chains, an opening wide
Time erupts in my joy, opening fate’s door
Reach gold flowing out, that spills on the shore
I soar in the spray, and with seagulls I cry
Comes glorious moment, with joy I do sigh
Inside treasure chest, I plunder with glee
And back to the harbour, to anchor at quay