The Lime Of The Deficient Mariner

An ancient naval tale

Photo by Raimond Klavins on Unsplash

It is a deficient mariner
He stoppeth by the tree
Of larkspur picks a glittering tendril
And steals a fruit or three

His scrumping endeavour makes him tardy
For his ship to engage
And knowest though his lateness brings
His Captain to incandescent rage

To placate the officer, he offers up
The proceeds of his crime
But of such foul mood the Captain has
No time for the oranges or lime

“Your harebrained plan of common man
Has put us right off schedule
We’re now the least of the fleet
We are looked upon with ridicule

That deficient mariner did sleek away
To hunker in his bunk
At his lowest he slept until
The sun to the sea had sunk

And then thought he as night befell
A memory from the past
I have tequila and some salt
Hidden beside the mast