(painting by Richard C. Moore,  The Clipper Ship)


The captain stood on the Black Fear’s deck,

A spyglass to his eye.

High above, her sails billowed

Boisterous to the sky.

His boots clacked as he paced the deck,

A sword upon his hip.

He ordered skull and crossbones flown,

and steered the massive ship.

One eye was kept upon the map—

a treasure to his heart!

Oh, how the captain dearly loved

That weathered, wrinkled chart!

Soon enough, the anchor dove

To seek a sandy hold.

The whole crew crept ashore that night,

to find the fabled gold.

Through the jungle, on they trekked,

Hacking through the bush,

Till the nighttime swallowed them whole,

In hungry vines and brush.

Before too long they reached the cave,

And with their torches bright,

Ventured on into the dark,

Their shadows framed with light.

And then ahead—It couldn’t be!

There sat an ancient chest.

Locked with chains all rusted o’er,

The lonely cave’s sole guest.

The captain knelt down reverently.

This was it, no doubt.

 All that treasure hid within

He’d only dreamt about.

The chains he broke quite easily

With a creaky, cracking crunch. . .

Jimmy! Please stop playing now.

Come down and eat your lunch!



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