TheRandyMan
Hero Member
- Apr 3, 2010
- 576
- 16
- Detector(s) used
- Excalibur II, Minelab Etrac, Ace 250k, Discovery TF-900
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
I was reading a post about how more and more of the bas'tards in the government and academia are making it harder and harder to find treasure and share it with the world, as most would love to do. In a perfect world, we could find treasure, share it with others and be able to live handsomely at the same time...have a win/win...but this is not so. I wrote this poem in 15 minutes after reading the post that inspired me. That is the way poetry is, it flows easily with motivation, inspiration and emotion. If you try to force it...its like trying to squeeze gold out of a piece of quartz with your bare hand. If you crush it , it crumbles into dust... Enjoy 
Finder's Keeper's
Silent but deadly, tho' she be,
Na'er a furlong hind ye.
Rogue wid such a chilluns' face,
Better on ye mind be.
Finder's Keeper's was her name,
Skull n Crossbones flappn'.
All yer treasure be her game,
Durst not find ye nappin'.
Battle rages short, nay sweet,
Death do walk right wid her.
Pray yer God, the treasure's gold,
Satisfy their fever.
Sated by the yellow spill,
Winds not noticed change'n.
Schooner skips atop the swells,
Canna' be but failin'.
Smashes on the leeward shore,
Timbers strewn oe'r beachside.
Coins to flutter, ever more,
Down the early moon tides.
Comes the times of seasons passn',
Ten, then fifty an sum dozens.
Pirate echos seem to chasten
Their modern erstwhile cousins.
"Rest ye bones.", the hunter speaks,
"I'll bear no ill will to ye.
Just let me gather what I seek,
N' I'll say I never knew ye."
The bones go silent, for a spec,
Then clear in mind their words be.
"Take all ye want of this our wreck,
Yer soul doth speak to mateys."
Finder's Keeper's was her name,
Long live the spirits in her.
But nary show, the bas'tards lame,
Who nev'r know her sailors.
©TheRandyMan
You may use and reprint this with my permission as long as you attribute it to me directly.
Finder's Keeper's
Silent but deadly, tho' she be,
Na'er a furlong hind ye.
Rogue wid such a chilluns' face,
Better on ye mind be.
Finder's Keeper's was her name,
Skull n Crossbones flappn'.
All yer treasure be her game,
Durst not find ye nappin'.
Battle rages short, nay sweet,
Death do walk right wid her.
Pray yer God, the treasure's gold,
Satisfy their fever.
Sated by the yellow spill,
Winds not noticed change'n.
Schooner skips atop the swells,
Canna' be but failin'.
Smashes on the leeward shore,
Timbers strewn oe'r beachside.
Coins to flutter, ever more,
Down the early moon tides.
Comes the times of seasons passn',
Ten, then fifty an sum dozens.
Pirate echos seem to chasten
Their modern erstwhile cousins.
"Rest ye bones.", the hunter speaks,
"I'll bear no ill will to ye.
Just let me gather what I seek,
N' I'll say I never knew ye."
The bones go silent, for a spec,
Then clear in mind their words be.
"Take all ye want of this our wreck,
Yer soul doth speak to mateys."
Finder's Keeper's was her name,
Long live the spirits in her.
But nary show, the bas'tards lame,
Who nev'r know her sailors.
©TheRandyMan
You may use and reprint this with my permission as long as you attribute it to me directly.
