Merry Christmas Mates!
A Pirate's Night Before Christmas by Bob Eldridge
'Twas the night 'afore Christmas and all cross the deck,
only helmsman was stirring, making sure we don't wreck.
Empty chests lay by each seaman's night rapture,
in hopes they'd be filled by another rich capture.
The crew were all groggy and snug in their bunks,
dreaming of booty to fill their sea trunks.
As Captain, I too wished for something to steal,
just forty winks 'fore my turn at the wheel
when just off my port bow I heard such a splash,
straight to the porthole I flew in a flash,
clutching saber and pistol and lit cannon match,
I raced up the gangway, threw open the hatch.
Full moon and clear sky lit up the bright sea,
still I couldn't believe what I spied before me.
Come aside was a skiff what had struck her red sails,
she was heaving to, towed by eight tiny whales!
With a little old skipper so lively and quick,
I knew straight away it was Captain Nick!
At some twenty knots his fishes they came,
he whistled, called orders and hailed them by name;
"Now Swabby! Now Scurvy! Now Pegleg and Seadog!
On Topsle', on Boatsn', Matey and Grog!"
"Prepare to be boarded, fly over the rail,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away sail!"
As hurricanes make the salty seas fly,
wash off our decks, send spray to the sky,
so up to our deck the fishes they flew,
towing their haul and Capt. Nick too!
Swimming through air up to the high rigging,
the eight little whales were lufting and jigging.
Bearing pistol and sword, I then scanned around,
when straight down the mainmast Capt. Nick bounded down!
In red oil cloth he were fitted from his stem to his stern,
wearing wet tangled seaweed, yet his pipe a full burn.
Pieces of eight spilt out his sea pack,
no doubt some fresh plunder of capture he'd sacked.
He was such a sight, I could only stand mum
yet he grinned like a greenhorn with two rations of rum.
His gnarled old grin forced me to belay.
The beard on his face gleamed white as sea spray,
a peg of a pipe he clenched with few teeth,
Like Blackbeard, smoke fogged his nole like a wreath.
A sea worn, yet jolly face conned me right odd,
he laughed in his midships like some freshly caught cod.
Three sheets to the wind, a right jolly seaman,
and I laughed too, yet was still not believing.
He winked his eye and I sheathed my sword,
Gave him a salute and piped him aboard.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his task,
filled sea chests with treasure, but stole a rum cask.
Then the jolly old salt laid finger by nose
and like magic up the rigging he rose.
He boarded his craft and cast off his line,
and away they all flew, making up for lost time.
Then Capt. Nick hailed me, just as he shoved off,
"Good Christmas! old pirates, Avast! Mazeltoff!"
Oy vey, what a mensch, it's a mitzfah! who knew?
That old Captain Nick was really a Jew!
Happy Holidays to all, mates! Hope there be much booty 'neath yar tree! (sent to me by the Arizona Corsairs Network
'Twas the night 'afore Christmas and all cross the deck,
only helmsman was stirring, making sure we don't wreck.
Empty chests lay by each seaman's night rapture,
in hopes they'd be filled by another rich capture.
The crew were all groggy and snug in their bunks,
dreaming of booty to fill their sea trunks.
As Captain, I too wished for something to steal,
just forty winks 'fore my turn at the wheel
when just off my port bow I heard such a splash,
straight to the porthole I flew in a flash,
clutching saber and pistol and lit cannon match,
I raced up the gangway, threw open the hatch.
Full moon and clear sky lit up the bright sea,
still I couldn't believe what I spied before me.
Come aside was a skiff what had struck her red sails,
she was heaving to, towed by eight tiny whales!
With a little old skipper so lively and quick,
I knew straight away it was Captain Nick!
At some twenty knots his fishes they came,
he whistled, called orders and hailed them by name;
"Now Swabby! Now Scurvy! Now Pegleg and Seadog!
On Topsle', on Boatsn', Matey and Grog!"
"Prepare to be boarded, fly over the rail,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away sail!"
As hurricanes make the salty seas fly,
wash off our decks, send spray to the sky,
so up to our deck the fishes they flew,
towing their haul and Capt. Nick too!
Swimming through air up to the high rigging,
the eight little whales were lufting and jigging.
Bearing pistol and sword, I then scanned around,
when straight down the mainmast Capt. Nick bounded down!
In red oil cloth he were fitted from his stem to his stern,
wearing wet tangled seaweed, yet his pipe a full burn.
Pieces of eight spilt out his sea pack,
no doubt some fresh plunder of capture he'd sacked.
He was such a sight, I could only stand mum
yet he grinned like a greenhorn with two rations of rum.
His gnarled old grin forced me to belay.
The beard on his face gleamed white as sea spray,
a peg of a pipe he clenched with few teeth,
Like Blackbeard, smoke fogged his nole like a wreath.
A sea worn, yet jolly face conned me right odd,
he laughed in his midships like some freshly caught cod.
Three sheets to the wind, a right jolly seaman,
and I laughed too, yet was still not believing.
He winked his eye and I sheathed my sword,
Gave him a salute and piped him aboard.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his task,
filled sea chests with treasure, but stole a rum cask.
Then the jolly old salt laid finger by nose
and like magic up the rigging he rose.
He boarded his craft and cast off his line,
and away they all flew, making up for lost time.
Then Capt. Nick hailed me, just as he shoved off,
"Good Christmas! old pirates, Avast! Mazeltoff!"
Oy vey, what a mensch, it's a mitzfah! who knew?
That old Captain Nick was really a Jew!
Happy Holidays to all, mates! Hope there be much booty 'neath yar tree! (sent to me by the Arizona Corsairs Network
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