Submitted by Charley Lyman
We were borne before the wind
as our fine canvas sprung taut.
‘Tis true our mates freely sinned;
our leaving left damsels distraught.
As our fine canvas sprung taut,
we sailed ‘neath a privateer’s flag.
To earn a fortune from ships we caught,
keeping finest silk down to ratty rag.
We sailed ‘neath a privateer’s flag,
something of which I be not proud;
though of our ‘ventures I willingly brag.
My mates were boisterous, uncouth and loud.
Something of which I be not proud;
‘tis true our mates often sinned.
Aye, my mates were boisterous… and loud.
But we were borne, lads and lassies, before the wind!
About the Poet
Charley (Life in Portofino) took a degree in writing, photography and broadcast production at the University of Minnesota. Then he went looking for a story. He lives in Orlando with his fellow poet/soul mate. He teaches 8th grade English. He writes fiction and poetry, and collects rejections on the side.
Painting: Horace Vernet – Fighting at Sunrise