alpharaposa | A poem..

Prompted by

haikujaguar's words for this week.

And That's Why He's the Captain

We'd sailed three weeks from port
In the Erubescent Tart
When the ghost ship ran us down
With murder in its heart.

The bony galleon drew abaft
And we all drew our swords,
When the water began to darkle,
And ice grew on the cords.

Now our main calling is fortune.
We're a seedy lot, it's true,
But if you risk enchanted seas,
A charm might see you through.

Old Three Eyes has a hobby;
Whenever we get to shore,
He seeks a braird of moly
To grow within the store.

So while we hacked the bloated dogs
And cursed the wintry air,
Old Three Eyes quit the embattled deck
And plucked his garden bare.

He exploded from the hold below
And released his fearsome howl,
Hurtling blossoms like grenades
With every daunting growl.

We burned the vessel with its crew.
For proof, we kept the sail.
No wight will touch our lovely tart
And live to tell the tale.