Mad Jack the Pirate
By Mad Jack
Mad Jack the pirate, stood on the deck, an ol' nor'easter whipping his neck. His head filled with thoughts of warmth and wealth, as he slipped from the harbor with cunning and stealth. The trip went by fast, the men knew their work, 'twas loyalty not whips, why they chose not to shirk. Mad Jack had a name, a bad reputation, the man and his job had little relation. A mistake had been made, now he sought a pardon, the injustice endured had caused him to harden. No lives e'er were lost, no blood ever shed, just a bad reputation filled others with dread. Whence came the battle, the fire and smoke, dreams of great fortune caused his crew not to choke. "Polly want a cracker" the parrot would yell, and a 'cracker' was loaded with a cannon shell. Before the fuse was touched and the shot go off, before they could, at a wild shot scoff, "Mad Jack the Pirate" would be the battle cry and fear caused his foes to lay down and die. John Smith stopped there and put his pipe down, while the pub crowd just sat, in this quiet English town. "Just a story I heard from an old Indian tracker." The parrot on his shoulder said "Polly want a cracker". Written December 19th, 2001 © on Dec 19 2001 04:29 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Mad Jack the pirate, stood on the deck,..."