An Ode to HMS Foudroyant

An old colporteur alone as a bell
Chimes along cobbled night rain
Eating the pages he cannot sell;
The dark wind will break
Upon the prow and bow
Breathing poetry into white sails.

From the Inn they fall out fouling
In slippery verse a whale shanty
Beards weather the chill howling;
Gaunt gutter-eyed garnets
Pale sailors wade flightless
'Ahoy - Ahoy'
Lured in red ebullient brothel lanterns.

Each wrestles with his damp wallet
Salty sheets soiled heated boiled
Caressed waif in blunt eyed garret;
Flesh made hoarse in curse
Blessed leather purses burn
'Ahoy - Ahoy'
Mellifluous siren bells through sea mist.

Boatswain spits out his whistling throat
It carries a drizzling debacles lament
A yawning whale skinned Yawl boat.
Salt makes crisp the sinews
Hard boots inured with wine
'Ahoy - Ahoy'
He topples teeth tasting brute tabernacle.

Blinking naively amongst candle drinking
Praying sighing swaying admirals daughter
Hurrah, Hurrah she embodies what they fought for;
Between the wind and the water
Sail ropes as old leviathan bones
The bell clangs in deep salty shadows,
Aboard they thunder tired from rowing
In disorder gulls blunder a gust brings
Waves as feathery hills rising on niveous wings.