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Welcome to my Christmas Pirates Tale: “Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ship, Not a creature was stirring, not even a flip— Of the compass or sextant, they lay where they fell, As the crew dreamed of plunder and stories to tell.” The hammocks were slung in the gun deck with care, In hopes that Old Neptune soon would be there; The pirates in kerchiefs, with boots kicked aside, Had visions of treasure chests brimful and wide. When out on the waves there arose such a clatter, I sprang from me bunk to see what was the matter. Away to the porthole I staggered with rum, And peered through the fog where the moon met the brine and the scum. The moon on the breast of the dark rolling sea Gave a glimmer of gold to what should I see— But a ghostly black galleon, swift as a shark, With eight tattered sails and a captain stark. With a peg-legged old tar so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick! More rapid than sea hawks his deckhands they came, And he whistled and shouted and called them by name: “Now Cutlass! now Cannon! now Jolly and Scab! On Powder! on Plunder! on Rumsoaked Old Gab! To the top of the mast! to the lee rail away! Now dash away! splash away! heave-ho and belay!” As dry leaves that fly when a nor’easter roars, They sprang o’er the rigging and leapt onto ours. So up to our main deck the crewmen they flew, With a sack full of loot—and Saint Nicholas too. And then, with a thump, I heard on the planks The creak of his boots and the clink of his shanks. As I turned ’round in fear and was drawing me blade, Down the companionway Saint Nick he came. He was dressed all in red, but in weathered sea cloth, And his coat smelled of tar, salt, gunpowder, and froth. A bundle of treasure he’d slung o’er his back, And he looked like a pirate just opening his sack. His eyes—how they twinkled! His grin, how it gleamed! Like a captain who’d found what all sailors had dreamed. His beard was like foam from a crashing white wave, And his laugh rolled like thunder, both merry and grave. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, Filling boots with gold doubloons, no duty to shirk. A wink of his eye and a twist of his peg, And up through the hatchway he sprang like a keg. He leapt to his ship, gave a whistle so shrill, And away they all sailed o’er the moonlit blue swill. But I heard him cry out as he vanished from sight— Merry Christmas, ye scallywags—and fair winds tonight! Yarrr!🎄🏴‍☠️ Username: McrningWocd

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