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by Dr. D Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Action/Adventure · #2046500
A poem of Adventure written for a 5 year old boy and his mother.
The Jacob I knew thought it through
When he scoured the coasts of Creelay
The brigand was bold and filled his hold
With riches he gathered that day
How learned he his trade to pistol and blade
To fear not when the storms came full front
His mother it seems, had perilous dreams
That her son would in victory hunt
So tenderly young, the songs that she sung
Were of weapons and peril unbound
She had no doubt, he’d lead a rout
Releasing the inward war hound
As each year came, he gathered fame
He wrestled each foe to his knees
His dashing good looks, were published in books
His winks to the lasses did please
To his mother he swore, a perilous chore
The Jewel of Timbor to obtain
On her breasts it would lay, honorific display
No matter the danger or pain
At the coast of Crelay, that fair jewel lay
Guarded by sinister folk
A hard hearted lot, slaves sold and bought
To live under their cold cruel yoke
Through Taverns he’d crawl, he’d muster and brawl
Each night he’d gather more men
With talks of great loot, give nay sayers boot
His voice surmounted the den
He finally had those good and bad
To train for his bold assault
With scores to settle, and test their mettle
To storm and wreck a vault
There was Slim of Fleems, dim witted it seems
But a fist as hard as rock
And Andrea the sweet, with knifes replete
Cruel males she would defrock
Then Jess the Just, a galeforce gust
Would with blade defend the weak
And curly lock Shirl would men hurl
If a fight they came to seek
Ronald the quite, could quell a riot
When his crushing crossbow raged
So goes the list, you get the gist
Of the crew that was engaged
When they raised their sails, one hundred males
And there stood lasses forty and two
The bow cut water as if eager for slaughter
They sang songs of wrongs past due
Back to that day, a gut wrenching fray
They stormed the fortress red
The heads displayed on the palisade
Fueled fury as Jacob led.
Each inch they fought, each yard they bought
Left companions still and cold
They gave once more, then crushed the door
To gain the inner hold
The final test, the stone to wrest
Was a beast called Craven Fear
Near nine feet tall, with a weighty mall
His eyes insanely clear
Then Jacob forward leapt, his men backward crept
When the mall came crashing down
Jacob he danced, small wounds he lanced
But Craven would not even frown
The fight ensued, Craven’s taunts were lewd
The mighty Jacob seemed to tire
His legs once nimble began to tremble
His shoulder ached like fire
Craven sensed, his foe sweat rinsed
To end this pesky life
He was too slow with his final blow
His heart found Jacobs knife
The others fell as the bards will tell
Jacobs crew like berserkers did fight
With freedom bought, slaves fiercely fought
Through the smoke-filled the night
Jacob had swore to sleep no more
Till the Jewel of Timbor was in hand
Each closet and crack, each room and each sack
So the fortress was sifted like sand
Andrea the Sweet, had her blade seat
On the throat of a high level thug
He recanted as last, his life nearly past
A great chamber twas under a rug
At the great throne, cast from slaves bone
Crimson carpet they eagerly threw
To no ones surprise, steep downward lies
Riches formerly known to a few
Far past jade vases, and gold filled cases
Only one thing could catch Jacobs eyes
Through facets light danced, all colors enhanced
By the jewel that would be his prize
At last they left, the city bereft
Of the cancer that courted its ways
A week on the seas, with riches to please
Toasting the lost and singing their lays
Jacob he came, not quite the same
After all the carnage he knew
His mood would wander, perilously ponder
His nightmares were not a few
A chain of gold, filigreed bold
Adorned the Jewel of Timbor
On Kim’s breast it would rest
She glowed as all remember
So Jacobs quest, a personal test
His mother, so proud was she
“My fine son, has duly won
His legend on the sea”

For Kim and Jacob 8-9-2013
© Copyright 2015 Dr. D (tulkasormal at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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