Tasting lime squatting on sun whitened sand <br />I viewed the contours of my anchored ship <br />making mental notes I carefully scanned <br />indigenous tribes as lime swarmed on my lips. <br />I waved a fruit high stuck to my sword tip <br />and laughed at horse like creatures in the sky <br />raging past in great white unbridled bands, <br />like bold corsairs of old on maiden trips, <br />I would barter for our water and supplies <br />or fighting die under the great white horse's eyes.<br /><br />Captain Cur<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/corsairs-of-old/
