The child slumped through the front door after school. Despair hanging above her head like a plump rain cloud.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I have to write a poem.”
“That doesn’t sound so hard.”
“About pirates.”
“You can do it.”
“Why didn’t they ask us to do something good, like a poem about chocolate cake?”
She was extremely poetically challenged. I could understand her misery. I thought for a few moments, thinking I could come up with something that would inspire her. “How about this?”
Avast me hearties
Cap be me name
I carry a cutlass
And pirate’s me game
From up in the rigging
To down in the hold
Me favourite doodads
Be jeweled and gold
If ye have a craving
To plunder the seas
Grab yer cutlass and eyepatch
And set sail with me
I trailed off, “…Yo…ho…”
She burst into tears, running into her room to cry in the dark. Apparently I had made things worse. I thought some more before joining her. Giving her a gentle back rub.
“You can use my poem,” I said.
“It’s plagiarism,” she wailed.
“I think it will be okay. You’re only ten years old; you’re not going to get expelled if they find out. Anyway, who’s going to know?”
© Jan Mayes
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash