That prize of pirate bounty

 I love to sail the sequinned seas
And stroll the lands of green and gold,
To love the treasures I have seized,
These wonderous pleasures I’ve behold.

But I am the weakest pirate;
Of whether it’s my fascination for the blue,
Or my speed towards the crow’s nest too;
My crew over this have no rest,
These little evils they call pest.

Keep my wood clean,
With my broom,
My sails pristine,
With my loom,
And if any fault is found
To my cabin I am bound.

I am in my weakest pirate state
When I see my long told pirate fate:
When another ship fastly approaches,
Through my telescope a swarm of roaches,
I flee,
Or,
If I see beauty,
I put to them all my colourful flags,
’Till my sails be all but rags.

There be no jolly seamen
That walk along my deck;
I know I feel my men brew,
With hatred,
They’ll throw me to the stew.

Though I am the weakest pirate, 
I’m not yet in the pit,
Because I have my anchor,
As every pirate should,
And that be very good,
For I know how to use it.

I’m fortunate,
For though my ship battles ranges of waves
And grog barrels be short everyday,
I have my stopper;
Whilst many pirate friends
Are without such Godsends.
That miracle that let’s us cope ‘er,
The waves, 
We stop with that prize of pirate bounty.

-Tobias A.J Poulos