I am but a cabin boy, upon this ship at sea,
set apart to serve my captain, his weapons and his tea.
I see his anger and his love, for those he does command,
and they in turn show honor, for the captain is their friend.
His stories tell of laughter and ones that draw too tears,
Of men who fallen to the sword, and those who draw much ale.
His only love is his ship, protect her he will stand,
and keep her ever present, within the minds of men.
He charts her course carefully, she follows his commands,
to lands beyond horizons and brings him back again.
She fills her sail and boasts her love, the captain is her man,
and he in turn caresses her, with care and sail and gem.
One day to stand behind the helm, a ship my own to love,
and know that she will love me, her captain and her friend. |
