Caps Lament
At the helm for 2 days and nights..standing tall and aginst the trades..........
Wheeling my way into the Port...my home ...and
wishing to get off me the smell of the "glades".
The State O sunshine...is bright and dry......and hot and sandy.......
Its for others though.........It not for me..............its just..
not my favorite cup O tea.
Back to the back bay to my abode............where the grog is not sipped from....
the bottle but from the snifter....warmed by salty hand...and...
my bed rocks not...and sea legs unload.
Perched on this throne.....called a barstool by the masses...but a throne fit for...
a king or Captain...I rush my brandy so that I can get to my...business...and
seek sleep and rest and dreams of mermaid lassies.
They call this Port Gulf....
and you know why...
Its a sailors dream...
and pleasin to eye............
I am home.
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