There in a crossing before resurrection,
Pedalo, pirate and me,
Penny for payment of passing with purpose,
Peculiar companions at sea.
Pirate has cutlass but I have the water,
Fear and distrust rule the waves,
Challenged by pirate’s intent, I was careful,
Guarded the penny I’d saved.
Paddling for fury in vessel too flimsy,
Pedalo sprung with a leak,
Watchful, we both, in the boat with one berth,
Leery and neither will speak.
Days spent in bleary, dried tears in our eyes,
His and mine salted, no less,
Vital drops lost in mistrust of the other
And not single lashful to bless.
He put down cutlass, disarmed I was charmed,
Poured of my drink then espied
Dagger in boot, the treaty was moot,
The brigand had bloody well lied.
I held up canteen, if you know what I mean,
Threatened to spill all to sea,
No semblance of jest though hazardous test,
Dismal for both him and me.
Gazed we eyes narrow’d, that Captain, no sparrow,
Choleric humour and eagle his way,
At last in frustration I held out my coin,
Passage wanted and willing to pay.
Penny of purpose seemed coin of faint worth,
Less value than water on board
But value for measure the both were a treasure
Life-giving water and key to new world.
scottishmomus 