This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Nelson On Date: 2001-02-16 09:47:33 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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A Gypsy Pirate Named Meg

"The Gypsy named Meg walked the length of the deck, passing each cannon making one last check. Thoughts filled her head of her husband below, as the ship sailed into the first morning glow. With flowing black hair and brilliant red coat, she was gunnery mate on Mad Jack's boat. Don't tell her a woman shouldn't hold that position, or her knife would request your complete contrition. She'd captured the eye of the dishonorable lord, who made her a lady by force not accord. A buxom beauty with soulful eyes, she had already fallen for the man who made pies. She got the lord drunk, while his senses were dulled, made him sign papers to have the whole thing annulled. By the time he awoke and found that she'd gone, she'd married the pie-man and named their son John. Meg was no tagalong, eating up chowder, no one could outdo her at mixing gunpowder. About how she knew, Mad Jack didn't fret, saying: "Mate, a girl's got to have one little secret."" Margaret Bacon stopped there and put down her shandy, The pub crowd expectant, thought her story was dandy. "Just a story I heard from an old Spanish Don." As her knife got polished by her son John.

Copyright © February 2001 Mark Andrew Nelson


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