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Matelot's Farwell To His Tot

You soothed my nerves and warmed my limbs
and cheered my dismal heart,
procured my wants, obliged my whims,
and now it’s time to part.

'Mid endless perils of the deep
and miseries untold
you summoned sweet, forgetful sleep
cocooned me from the cold.

Ten years ago, the 'pound o' leaf'
that cast its fragrant spell
about the ship, expired in grief
and sadness of farewell.

Though guests may find the pantry bare
when e're they choose to come,
your hospitality was there:
A tot of Pusser’s rum.

Two hundred years or more you filled
the storm tossed sailors need
now you’ve been killed by spite distilled
from jealousy and greed.

And petty clerks with scrawny necks
who never saw a wave'
nor felt the spray nor heaving decks
consign you to your grave.

Alas! However, I protest
to save myself from hurt,
they tell me that it's for the best
to keep us all alert.

And so, the time has come, old friend
to take the final sip.
Our tears are shed. This is the end.
Goodbye, and 'Bottoms Up'.

Author: R W H
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