Sam Underhill on Feb 6, 2014 wrote:

"Up jumps a crab with his crooked legs
Saying 'you play the cribbage and I'll stick the pegs'
Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

Louis le Bisque started the shanty, but by the time the chorus had come around most of the crew had joined in as the more nimble climbed the mast.

"Up jumps a dolphin with his chuckle-head
He jumps on the deck saying 'pull out the lead!'
Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

Bonnie Anne had a surprisingly true soprano for all her Albion accent. The climbers had now taken up positions along the spars and were untying the great knots that held the sails.

"Up jumps a flounder so flat on the ground
Saying 'mind your old chocolate, mind how you sound'
Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

"Up jumps a salmon so bright as the sun
He jumped down between the decks and fired off a gun
Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

Milo Graytail and Sarah Steele had laid claim to the next two verses. With a majectic slowness, the sails unfurled until with an almighty Crack, they bellowed out and caught the spiral breeze.

"Up jumps a whale, the biggest of all
He jumped up aloft and he's pawl after pawl
Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

Ratbeard couldn't sing to save his life, but no one needs to be a great singer for a shanty.

"Up jumps a herring, the king of the sea
He jumps up on deck saying 'helms a-lee!'
Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

Subodai seldom spoke, let alone sang - so it was a pleasant surprise as the Horse Khan took a rare turn.

"Up jumps a shark with his big row of teeth
He jumped up between the decks and shook out the reefs
Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

The last verse was a joint effort as everyone pitched in, each with their own musical pitch. The Black Star slid easily into the skylane. It's destination known only to Captain, who told his crew only it was mission of vital importance. They looked at him warily out of the corner of their eyes - but there was none of the usual wild-eyed, crazed looks of past 'vital importance' missions. Sam stood alone on the quarterdeck and smiled as the ship leapt forward on her way. Then he surprised everyone all by bursting into a repeat of the chorus.
"Singing blow the wind westerly, let the wind blow
By a gentle nor'wester how steady she goes."

The crew looked at each other excitedly. Whatever was going on, for all the easy comraderie, there was adventure in the air.

(Blow the wind westerly - traditional Newfoundland shanty)
('The suspense is terrible! I hope it will last!' Oscar Wilde)
(to be continued)

please excuse any typos, im sending this in from my phone. congrats valkour on your one thousandth yarr, you have really been a great addition to these boards. and for sam, that post was amazing, being origonally from the canadian maritimes i have very fond memories of singing songs include blow the wind westerly back in elementary school and even at house parties. proper house parties i might add that oftne did continue on into the next day more of a celiegh then a house party really.

CdeWinter on Feb 10, 2014 wrote:

please excuse any typos, im sending this in from my phone. congrats valkour on your one thousandth yarr, you have really been a great addition to these boards. and for sam, that post was amazing, being origonally from the canadian maritimes i have very fond memories of singing songs include blow the wind westerly back in elementary school and even at house parties. proper house parties i might add that oftne did continue on into the next day more of a celiegh then a house party really.

OOH it sounds like you had such a delightful childhood. What absolutely beautiful memories. Thank you immensely for sharing them with us.

Sam Underhill on Feb 9, 2014 wrote:

"Cap'n, I really doesn't mind being back in the sewers - in fact, it reminds me of me days as a wee lad, scurrying about wihtout a care in the world, playing with the bits of floating flotsam, arrr... doggonit, ye made me reminisce again."

"Go ahead and reminisce whle you can," Sam informed Ratbeard, "it looks as if we've arrived." They were below the streets in sewers of Port Regal.

Catbeard was having sneezing fits. "I simply do not understand why we have to come here of all places. The aromas are enough to put me off kippers."

"I'll take your share then," Milo piped up. "I love kippers, they're my favorite."

"Everything's your favorite, if'n it's put in front of ye."

"That's enough," Sam whispered, "we've got company." A troupe of wandering Wharf Rats were congregating in the passage ahead. Ratbeard peered around the corner.

"Aww.. we doesn't want hurt them, Cap'n. They're just young whipper snappers what doesn't know any better. We's ken sneak around 'em, I reckon."

"I believe I will need to wash my costume once we emerge from this mildew infested place," El Toro announced.

"Like the stench of your sweat is a picnic to endure," Sarah Steele muttered sotto voce.

The Wharf Rats scurried away upon seeing the pirates. "No doubt frightened off by my, I mean our sheer awesomeness. Probably off to tell their masters about us."

"Captain, you still haven't sufficiently explained to us just why we need to be down in this cesspool." Catbeard, like all his species, remained intensely curious.

"Because this is where Gilbert and Sullivan say they lost track of it."

"And what is it?"

"What we're looking for."

"Does it even occur to you we may be better help if we knew what it is?"

Just then Sam stopped suddenly, bent over and picked up a small oilskin wrapped parcel. He held it to his nose, made a face, then declared, "That's it then, back to the ship, no time to lose." He slipped the package into his pouch and began to lead the retreat back the way they had come.

"Does it occur to anyone else, this is naught but a big waste of time," El Toro questioned the air.

"I believe he is trying to put us off the true scent of what he's up to."

"Like a red herring?"

"I like herring, they're my favorite."

"It is past lunch time, is it not? A quick trip to the tavern on the way back? Some toasted cheese, a mug of yum?"

"You'll have to ask the Cap'n first."

"Not if we mutiny and hit the tavern before the ship."

"Besides, he hates toasted cheese."

"We know, we know, toasted cheese is your favorite."

"Besides, I hates the word 'mutiny'. Used ta hear it all the time back in the day."

"No, I don't need your help climbing the ladder, thank you very much."

"Sorry, just trying to help."

"Guys, you know what?" Sam called down from the street entrance. "I'm feeling a bit peckish, what say we stop at the tavern on our way back."

"Now that's my idea of a captain."

(to be continued)

Oh Sam you are not only the master of merriment, you are the captain of cliffhangers. I totally am consuming every chapter of this and I see my hopes dashed to the rocks again of seeing what you are up to this time. Then I have only to remember that "Oh wonderful, this means that another volume will be coming our way. You can keep a plot going even better than Christopher Paolini. (The author of the Eragon series)
If you were to write books then I would joyfully invest in the bookshelves needed to safely house your volumes so that they will be ready at any time for joyful re perusal.

Sam Underhill on Feb 10, 2014 wrote:

"Alright guys," Sam emerged from his cabin and announced, "set a course for..." Suddenly his arms were grabbed and he felt himself moving back down the ship's ladder. With Ratbeard on arm and El Toro on the other, he decided to let them have their way rather injure himself struggling against the tide. Back in his cabin he wes settled into his favorite chair. He found himself confronted by Sarah Steele, Milo Graytail, Catbeard, and the aforementioned muscle.

"Cap'n, we're not meaning no disrespect nor nothin', but ... well..."
"We think you're taking this 'mission of vital importance' a wee bit too far."
"And too flaky, ifs ye ask me."
"Not that you're not the Captain, Cap'n, but Cap'n..."
"What the oaf is trying to say is we don't get it."
"Get what?"
"What we're, or actually you're up to."
"Nothing much, just a short Spiral jaunt to collect a few things."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Exactly, why with all this whatnot. What's all this what for?"
"That made no sense whatsoever."
"Do you guys need me for this conversation or can I go tell Bonnie Anne where we're going next."
"Why do we need to go somewhere next?"
"I thought we were still on what?"
"What?"
"Second base."
"I didn't get that either."
"STOP! We'll start again. Everyone take a deep breath and... Stop him!"
Sam had risen and slipped out the door, but was dragged back bodily.
"I thought we were starting again. Setting the course and all that."
"Captain, please," and here Sarah made puppy dog eyes, "please tell us what's going on."
"Do we really have to go through all this again?"
"Shut up. Let the captain talk for once."
"Why?"
"SHUT IT!"
"I think you all are reading way too much into this, it's all quite innocent really."
"Innocent. Yeah, like fun."
"Trips to Port Regal, Marleybone, Mooshu? And for what? A crate. An oilskin packet. A... what did you get in Mooshu?"
"A headache to be honest. Can I go now and captain the ship?"
"No, not til ye fess up."
"Catbeard must you nibble on those blasted pickled herrings the whole time?"
"Mr. Norris just sent me a brand new barrel."
"Pickled herring is my favorite."
"Does we need him in here?"
"Who? The Cap'n?"
"No, Milo."
"Yes?"
"Is that yes we needs 'im, or yes 'ees answering roll call."
"Yes."
"Not you!"
"Santo Pollo!"
"Where?"
"That's where we're going next."
"Why?"
"One question a day, and you have used up all your questions. Everyone out."
Grumbling, but outwitted, the crew left Sam alone in the cabin. Bonnie Anne poked her nose around the doorway.
"Cap'n, I have a question."

(to be continued)

Sam slipped Captain Reynolds a few gold coins. The spiral's most celebrated smuggler went outside to his ship. A short time later Mrs. Washburne held the door open while her husband and Cobb dragged in a humongous trunk between them.

"Take it in the back room," Reynolds told them, following behind carrying a small shoebox which he set on the bar in front of Sam. "Here ya go, friend. And thanks for the favors, I still owe you."

Sam lifted the lid, then his eyebrows." We're even," he declared decisively. They reached out and shook hands.

"We founds 'im, Cap'n, he were sneaking up from the Banditoad Trail."

"I was just out... walking," Bob the Musketeer equivocated. "No law against that."

"We was lookin' fer ye."

"You found me. What?"

"Oh no, we are not, I repeat, not startin' that game again."

"Excuse me?"

Sam gently extricated Bob from Ratbeard's questionable mercy and headed for the back. The Dos Amigos y Uno returned from their break and began the evening's second set. The Gallo Loco Cantina was hopping for a Tuesday night. The locals occupied their usual spaces, mostly ignoring the transients.

The crew were scattered about in various groups. Catbeard was telling a story from his past and walloped Milo with an imaginary fish to everyone's great amusement. On the other side of the room, the ladies were seated around a table playing cards (it looked as if Zeena was currently winning). Subodai did calisthenics in a corner. El Toro and Mustang Sally had gone home to check on the management of their estate.

"And you want all this done in ONE night?" Bob's voice had risen, not just in volume but in pitch as well. Sam dragged Bob back down and pushed a small bag across the table. Whatever it contained shut Bob up, for he weighed it carefully in his hand, then pocketed it. He took out a portable desk, opened it to remove a sheet of vellum, a quill and some ink.

Just then the Dos Amigos y Uno struck a chord and began to sing

It was a Friday morn when we set sail
And we were not far from the land
When our captain, he spied a fishy mermaid
With a comb and a glass in her hand
Oh the ocean waves do roll
And the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below

Up spoke the captain of our gallant ship
And a brave old skipper was he
"This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom
We shall sink to the bottom of the sea"

Up spoke the first mate of our gallant ship
And a well-spoken man was he
"I have me a wife in Salem by the sea
And tonight she a widow will be"

Up spoke the bosun of our gallant ship
And a brave young man was he
"Well I've got a sweetheart at St. John's by the sea
And tonight she be weepin' for me"

Up spoke the cook of our gallant ship
And a greasy old butcher was he
"I care much more for my pots and my pans
Than I do for the bottom of the sea"

(The Mermaid - traditional sea song)
(to be continued)

Chrissy Th'Blesser on Feb 8, 2014 wrote:

Oh my goodness this is just brilliant. I am on the edge of my own Quarterdeck waiting to hear the rest of this. Although my heart was sneaking around that warehouse with the rest of you and skulking around right behind you. One question please: What's a peeler?

(OOC: just jumping in quickly... Chrissy, a 'peeler' is the Law, the police. Victorian slang, I believe, though could have originated earlier . Now back to Sam's antics... )

Anne Radcliffe on Feb 12, 2014 wrote:

(OOC: just jumping in quickly... Chrissy, a 'peeler' is the Law, the police. Victorian slang, I believe, though could have originated earlier . Now back to Sam's antics... )

Thank you beloved Teacher.

Sam Underhill on Feb 11, 2014 wrote:

Sam slipped Captain Reynolds a few gold coins. The spiral's most celebrated smuggler went outside to his ship. A short time later Mrs. Washburne held the door open while her husband and Cobb dragged in a humongous trunk between them.

"Take it in the back room," Reynolds told them, following behind carrying a small shoebox which he set on the bar in front of Sam. "Here ya go, friend. And thanks for the favors, I still owe you."

Sam lifted the lid, then his eyebrows." We're even," he declared decisively. They reached out and shook hands.

"We founds 'im, Cap'n, he were sneaking up from the Banditoad Trail."

"I was just out... walking," Bob the Musketeer equivocated. "No law against that."

"We was lookin' fer ye."

"You found me. What?"

"Oh no, we are not, I repeat, not startin' that game again."

"Excuse me?"

Sam gently extricated Bob from Ratbeard's questionable mercy and headed for the back. The Dos Amigos y Uno returned from their break and began the evening's second set. The Gallo Loco Cantina was hopping for a Tuesday night. The locals occupied their usual spaces, mostly ignoring the transients.

The crew were scattered about in various groups. Catbeard was telling a story from his past and walloped Milo with an imaginary fish to everyone's great amusement. On the other side of the room, the ladies were seated around a table playing cards (it looked as if Zeena was currently winning). Subodai did calisthenics in a corner. El Toro and Mustang Sally had gone home to check on the management of their estate.

"And you want all this done in ONE night?" Bob's voice had risen, not just in volume but in pitch as well. Sam dragged Bob back down and pushed a small bag across the table. Whatever it contained shut Bob up, for he weighed it carefully in his hand, then pocketed it. He took out a portable desk, opened it to remove a sheet of vellum, a quill and some ink.

Just then the Dos Amigos y Uno struck a chord and began to sing

It was a Friday morn when we set sail
And we were not far from the land
When our captain, he spied a fishy mermaid
With a comb and a glass in her hand
Oh the ocean waves do roll
And the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below

Up spoke the captain of our gallant ship
And a brave old skipper was he
"This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom
We shall sink to the bottom of the sea"

Up spoke the first mate of our gallant ship
And a well-spoken man was he
"I have me a wife in Salem by the sea
And tonight she a widow will be"

Up spoke the bosun of our gallant ship
And a brave young man was he
"Well I've got a sweetheart at St. John's by the sea
And tonight she be weepin' for me"

Up spoke the cook of our gallant ship
And a greasy old butcher was he
"I care much more for my pots and my pans
Than I do for the bottom of the sea"

(The Mermaid - traditional sea song)
(to be continued)

"Cap'n, I fear that something horrible may have happened," Bonnie pleaded as she addressed Valkoor with the sound of desperation in her voice.

"Oh, no- what it be this time, fer nuttin' could be worster than the time Catbeard used me wrong leg for a scratchin' post as I lay, um....well, let's just say preoccupied from all the yum that fell down me throat," Ratbeard stammered.

"Ooh, yea-that did take some time to heal, didn't it- a puuurrrfectly honest mistake, it's surely the peg from now on."

"Seriously, don't ye know the difference between wood and rat?"

"Well, they both feel the same and there's more knots in your leg than in a forest full of trees...meooww."

"Oh, I outta slap you with a blown up fish, Cap'n Fresh Step."

"Hey, that's my move...haaachh...aarcchh....harckkk!" resounded Catbeard and his newly produced hairball.

"Aww, look- Furball is haven kittens. And besides, where do you keep all of them fish at, pretty disgusting if ye ask me."

"Enough of this foolery Rat and Cat. Bonnie, what has gotten you so worked up and more importantly, what does the fox say?"

"Well, Cap'n- it seems that our new friend Cap'n Sam has gone on a wee mad hatter, scavenger hunt of some sorts. No one in Skull Island knows just where he has disappeared to. Some say he and his crew may even be lost at Skyway."

"Oh dear, this is horrible news indeed."

"What could have gotten him so crazed and desperate to go seeking who knows what? The Skull Island locals say he left with such astounding haste....I do hope he is ok, and his crew as well."

"Should we send out a search party for him, in case they be lost- Cap'n?"

"No, Bonnie- he is a good Captain full of nautical knowledge and tricks up his sleeve that would have Monkey King drooling. If he is indeed lost at sea, I hope he has a poem to keep him comforted and to guide him through the troubled times."

"A poem Cap'n, don't ye think he could use more help than that?"

"Well, Ratbeard- you see, when facing peril I often seek inspiration from some of the sailor's words that came before me. I'm reminded of one poem in particular that helped me when I too was once lost at sea."

"Care to share, Cap'n my Cap'n?"

"Why, I thought you'd never asked Scratch"

(continued....)

Sam Underhill on Feb 11, 2014 wrote:

Sam slipped Captain Reynolds a few gold coins. The spiral's most celebrated smuggler went outside to his ship. A short time later Mrs. Washburne held the door open while her husband and Cobb dragged in a humongous trunk between them.

"Take it in the back room," Reynolds told them, following behind carrying a small shoebox which he set on the bar in front of Sam. "Here ya go, friend. And thanks for the favors, I still owe you."

Sam lifted the lid, then his eyebrows." We're even," he declared decisively. They reached out and shook hands.

"We founds 'im, Cap'n, he were sneaking up from the Banditoad Trail."

"I was just out... walking," Bob the Musketeer equivocated. "No law against that."

"We was lookin' fer ye."

"You found me. What?"

"Oh no, we are not, I repeat, not startin' that game again."

"Excuse me?"

Sam gently extricated Bob from Ratbeard's questionable mercy and headed for the back. The Dos Amigos y Uno returned from their break and began the evening's second set. The Gallo Loco Cantina was hopping for a Tuesday night. The locals occupied their usual spaces, mostly ignoring the transients.

The crew were scattered about in various groups. Catbeard was telling a story from his past and walloped Milo with an imaginary fish to everyone's great amusement. On the other side of the room, the ladies were seated around a table playing cards (it looked as if Zeena was currently winning). Subodai did calisthenics in a corner. El Toro and Mustang Sally had gone home to check on the management of their estate.

"And you want all this done in ONE night?" Bob's voice had risen, not just in volume but in pitch as well. Sam dragged Bob back down and pushed a small bag across the table. Whatever it contained shut Bob up, for he weighed it carefully in his hand, then pocketed it. He took out a portable desk, opened it to remove a sheet of vellum, a quill and some ink.

Just then the Dos Amigos y Uno struck a chord and began to sing

It was a Friday morn when we set sail
And we were not far from the land
When our captain, he spied a fishy mermaid
With a comb and a glass in her hand
Oh the ocean waves do roll
And the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below

Up spoke the captain of our gallant ship
And a brave old skipper was he
"This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom
We shall sink to the bottom of the sea"

Up spoke the first mate of our gallant ship
And a well-spoken man was he
"I have me a wife in Salem by the sea
And tonight she a widow will be"

Up spoke the bosun of our gallant ship
And a brave young man was he
"Well I've got a sweetheart at St. John's by the sea
And tonight she be weepin' for me"

Up spoke the cook of our gallant ship
And a greasy old butcher was he
"I care much more for my pots and my pans
Than I do for the bottom of the sea"

(The Mermaid - traditional sea song)
(to be continued)

El Toro interrupted Valkoor's reverie, "Pardon my Captain, but there is an unworthy to see you." He lowered his voice conspiratorily, "He's a Musketeer."

"It's alright, I don't mind being made fun of," Bob the Musketeer said sadly, "At least I'm not a buccaneer."

"I will have you know I am a swashbuckler," the Bull retorted. "Besides you were supposed to wait until I announced you."

"Here ya go," Bob handed Valkoor an elegantly scripted parchment. "See you later." And with that the luckless Musketeer vanished into the night. (Not an easy trick at lunchtime)

Unto the Most Decorated Two-Faced Valkoor the Victorious
Scourge of the Seven Deserts
Nautical Nuisance of the Seven Seas
Anglophile of Undetermined Duration
Does Loyal Sam Underhill (not those Underhills, but the other ones) send Greetings

My recent Sojourns have come to a Halt at the Gallo Loco Cantina in Santo Pollo
It is my great Hope that you will join me for a Celebration of Your celebrated Antics
Per se your gathering over Time a total of Over 1000 Yars!
This rare Achievement deserves special Treatment
And thus I send you this Missive to Invite you to a Fantasy Literary Only Celebration in your honor
In the Back Room of that Establishment

Valkoor turned to El Toro, who had taken the opportunity to read over his shoulder, and said, "..."

(Alright troops, now it's your turn. You can all finish the story in your own styles.)
(to be continued (hopefully) by youse guys)

ValkoorTheVictorio... on Feb 12, 2014 wrote:

(....from continued)

After mere seconds of the crew 'twisting' their Captain's arm, Valkoor offered up a haunting poem that planted itself in their very souls.

Long have the winds blown, long has your light shown-
to guide a lost soul, to which yet is not known.
A ship left behind, that was destined to drown-
consumed by the darkness as the heavens gazed down.

No markers, no maps, nor light of day-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

A clouded canvas, the stars it does hide-
a window in the haze, with your glow as my guide.
Set adrift at sea, both madness and I-
from yearning for fool's gold, now I echo my cry.

No light, no beacon, nor horn to my dismay
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Lost in this vastness, with nowhere to go-
hauntingly watched by the depths down below.
Tossed about the tides, to the sea I now belong-
may your light shine and may you hear my song.

Through every tilt, every creak, every toss, every sway-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Call the winds, calm the seas, quiet the depths- for surely they mock-
please lead me safely to sand, to earth, to tree or to rock.
Guide me oh moonlight, to some friendly shore-
steer me from madness and harm, as I beg you once more.

I plead, I beseech, I wish and to you I pray-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Which is deeper, the water or the depths of my soul-
a question without answer, only hope left to hold.
Moonlight's gleam lay a path down before me-
take me to safety and once more hear my plea.

From harm, from danger, from peril and from the fray-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Taunted and teased by the whispers through the air-
voices that haunt me, from mouths that are not there.
I gaze upon you- my companion, my heavenly friend-
and deliver me a haven, I ask of thee again.

To shelter, to shore, to land and my home to stay-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

I hear the waves crashing, then the cries of a gull-
the vessel left thrashing, as familiar soil greets the hull.
Feet touching sand, rock, earth and shade from a tree-
my pleas you have answered, your light guided me.

My land and my home and now new light of day-
You guided me oh moonlight, you showed me the way.

-'Moonlight's Guide'- A Valkoor Original Poem.

*Picks up jaw from floor* Why Valkoor that was absolutely stunning. FIrst I am once again mired in mirth the the Cap'n Fresh step comment then you just sweep my soul away with this haunting and oh so lovely prose. If your Lady Fair does not convince you to start publishing soon we are all gonna have to tie you up until you start submitting your wonderful stuff. That was just pure soul stirring symphony of words. Thank you for sharing such wonderfulness with us.

Chrissy Th'Blesser on Feb 13, 2014 wrote:

*Picks up jaw from floor* Why Valkoor that was absolutely stunning. FIrst I am once again mired in mirth the the Cap'n Fresh step comment then you just sweep my soul away with this haunting and oh so lovely prose. If your Lady Fair does not convince you to start publishing soon we are all gonna have to tie you up until you start submitting your wonderful stuff. That was just pure soul stirring symphony of words. Thank you for sharing such wonderfulness with us.

Thank you Chrissy very much, I am glad you enjoyed it. I would love to try to have something published but I guess I just don't have the confidence yet...but I do have an ever growing population of material that I do hope to someday at least present for publication. I guess it can't hurt to try, right? You can't really expect to accomplish anything if you don't finalize all of the effort that you put into something. Hopefully, one day!

Thank you for the encouragement and sharing such kind compliments. I really do appreciate it and it gives me that much more confidence.

ValkoorTheVictorio... on Feb 12, 2014 wrote:

(....from continued)

After mere seconds of the crew 'twisting' their Captain's arm, Valkoor offered up a haunting poem that planted itself in their very souls.

Long have the winds blown, long has your light shown-
to guide a lost soul, to which yet is not known.
A ship left behind, that was destined to drown-
consumed by the darkness as the heavens gazed down.

No markers, no maps, nor light of day-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

A clouded canvas, the stars it does hide-
a window in the haze, with your glow as my guide.
Set adrift at sea, both madness and I-
from yearning for fool's gold, now I echo my cry.

No light, no beacon, nor horn to my dismay
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Lost in this vastness, with nowhere to go-
hauntingly watched by the depths down below.
Tossed about the tides, to the sea I now belong-
may your light shine and may you hear my song.

Through every tilt, every creak, every toss, every sway-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Call the winds, calm the seas, quiet the depths- for surely they mock-
please lead me safely to sand, to earth, to tree or to rock.
Guide me oh moonlight, to some friendly shore-
steer me from madness and harm, as I beg you once more.

I plead, I beseech, I wish and to you I pray-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Which is deeper, the water or the depths of my soul-
a question without answer, only hope left to hold.
Moonlight's gleam lay a path down before me-
take me to safety and once more hear my plea.

From harm, from danger, from peril and from the fray-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

Taunted and teased by the whispers through the air-
voices that haunt me, from mouths that are not there.
I gaze upon you- my companion, my heavenly friend-
and deliver me a haven, I ask of thee again.

To shelter, to shore, to land and my home to stay-
Guide me oh moonlight, please show me the way.

I hear the waves crashing, then the cries of a gull-
the vessel left thrashing, as familiar soil greets the hull.
Feet touching sand, rock, earth and shade from a tree-
my pleas you have answered, your light guided me.

My land and my home and now new light of day-
You guided me oh moonlight, you showed me the way.

-'Moonlight's Guide'- A Valkoor Original Poem.

where do you get this from bro? robert frost could not have done better! you came up with that yourself?

Congrats again Valkoor, you are a legend :D

fearless robert sp... on Feb 16, 2014 wrote:

where do you get this from bro? robert frost could not have done better! you came up with that yourself?

First off, thank you for the wonderful compliment and even mentioning me along side the likes of Frost. I, nor anything that I could offer, could not even come close to producing something that could hold a candle to his works. But I absolutely appreciate the encouraging words, nonetheless.

As far as your first question- I created that poem from the inner depths of my brain and my soul! And for question number two, yes I did come up with the poem myself- I would never take credit for even a line from a poem or other person's work if it wasn't my own. I love to write or at least constantly create with my thoughts. I kind of owe that creation to Sam Underhill, because of his great posts with the amazing shanties and poems. It got me brainstorming on ideas for poems and I just jotted down ideas that I thought would make great titles for poems or songs.

Guide me oh moonlight popped into my head and from that point on, the ideas just kept-a-flowing. It's funny because I can try for days or weeks in a row to come up with a decent poem to no avail and then in instances like this one, it only took 30-45 minutes to produce. I had no intentions of writing a poem along these lines until I read Sam's post and thought, "I want to come up with a poem dealing with seafaring or of a nautical nature." And there you have it, a poem was born. As long as what I write satisfies my purpose and reasons for writing it, I am pleased. (But Robert Frost, clearly I am not)

So if you read this, Sam, thank you for the inspiration behind my poem.

And thanks again Robert for the nice words.