A Pirate From The Past

torrential rain cascades on stone paving
crazy wild wetness spilling over gutters
creating lakes of puddled opportunity

downpour from grey mackintosh sky
deluge of relentless winter water
brimful mind bursts its memory banks

i recall a blue plastic toy chest
a galleon of homemade happiness
containing a cutlass and black eye patch

a small boy afloat in soaked shorts
scraped knees, messing in the garden
sailing white crested waves of salty seas

Black Beard has grown tall with the years
has a son of his own who awaits play days
with the toy chest in the attic

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

There was nothing more fun then those days of youth when we would pretend to be different things whether it be pirate, policeman or a super hero.
I can imagine the nostalgia a m om also goes through remember watching their child play with their imagination.

[Chris Shaw]

Those make believe games were such fun. Apart from memories of my boy playing pirates, I can remember the joy I got as well messing around in the wet stuff. The only drama they seem to get now is on their phones. What a pity. Thank you Dale for your thoughts. Most appreciated. All the best.

Chris

[Eilis]

It’s hard not to see my own son in this too, Chris. What a lovely, vivid memory you paint here to swim alongside the lashing of a storm. I suppose watching our children grow and then leave and then have children of their own can bring both the joy and that occasional inner emotional storm when we are suddenly hit by a strong memory.

I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the now and the then. At times I felt like the water itself was acting like a vehicle into the past. A river of memory gliding us along.

We’ve had an awfully rainy winter here, so I can relate to the waterlogged feeling at the beginning of your poem. We had snow on Saturday and today it’s raining again and 70 degrees. Weird weather here. I know you’re dealing with some tough weather there. Hope all is well for you.

Loved this poem. A dear little escape into the kingdom of childhood.

[Chris Shaw]

Many thank yous for your detailed response Eilis, much appreciated. We are just bracing ourselves for another storm this weekend, hopefully not quite as damaging as the last one. It appears that you too are having weird weather. Pleased you enjoyed this read. Always good to see you on my page. All good wishes.

Chris

[Lorry]

Ah, those never ending cloudbursts can jolt the memories awake like a slap to the face Chris.
Your memory is so much sweeter of what i was just reminiscing about, my old primary school class that smelled of thirty damp and miserable kids who were allowed to walk to school in downpours, but not allowed out at playtime or lunchtime.... Which i called and still do call big playtime.
Ugh, andthe smell of wellies too 😀

[Chris Shaw]

How mean, no playtime. I can smell that damp musty wool from here Lorry. How weird, you are allowed to get wet walking to school, but not to go out and play in it. Hope all is well with you.

Chris

[Lorry]

As well as well can be, at silly o'clock in the morning, at silly degrees celcius. So about the same as ever 😀
Thanks for reminding me of smelly wellies, i had erased that part from memory 😀

[lakinbob]

My brother and I used to play like this. Mostly as soldiers crawling through the long grass in the fields that bounded our house. We used to pretend it was jungle, the magic broken when our younger sister used to come and see what we were doing and had that scornful look in her eyes which the female of the species is so very good at when observing the foolishness of men.

Thanks for the memory.

[Chris Shaw]

You made me smile with the memories of your sister abd brother. So pleased I took you on a nostalgia trip. Thank you for responding, most appreciated lakinbob.

Chris

[John the Baptist]

Sometimes everyday happenings can trigger memories, occasionally unpleasant ones. The opposite occurs in this offering, where a rainy day makes a mother recall a moment from her son's childhood. She recalls a day, a rainy day like this one, when he got soaked while playing the part of a pirate. "Black Beard," as she calls him, is now grown, with a son of his own, who enjoys the same childhood pleasures. Before our eyes, history continually repeats itself for us, if we are attentive enough to see it.

PS: The real Blackbeard, Captain Edward Teach, once lived in the same NC town as my ancestors. He was an unpleasant, sociopathic type, who first practiced piracy during Queen Anne's War and apparently couldn't give it up. I think having 14 wives might have had something to do with it.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you John for your review and for the additional information about Blackbeard. 14 wives though is probably enough to turn any man unpleasant. All that nagging :))

Chris

[John the Baptist]

Not sure if that # is actually verified. A lot of legends evolved around the man.

[barleygirl]

Love your pirate theme, even tho I never played pirates, so this is not my memory. What stands out to me is how I used to love going out to play on a rainy day & putting a leaf in a swollen creek & watching it float wildly along, running along the creek, trying not to lose sight of my little leaf boat. Your way of seeing the world & remembering life brings a plethora of treasures to the surface! (((HUGS)) Fondly, Margie

[Chris Shaw]

Love your memories of rainy days Margie. Your leaf story is the sort of thing I still do. You know that inner child just can't help but come out to play. Many thanks for your review.

Chris

[Earl Schumacker]

Hi Chris,
In all honesty, I perceive you as a writer with a natural gift, a sense of purity in producing a quality sound cadence and meter in your works or should I say poetic voice? Great stuff. Love the images. You remind me of me in many ways. I am envious of your creation here and creative abilities. The grey mackintosh sky just blew me over. It is loaded with so much meaning. I wish I had written this pirate poem of intrigue. Earl

[Chris Shaw]

Earl, what a lovely and encouraging review you have left me. So pleased you enjoyed this read. I thank you for your visit, pleased to see you on my page. All good wishes.

Chris

[Beccy]

The magical and imaginative world of a child brought beautifully to life in this lovely poem Christine. Many a time, I watched my son Charlie lose himself in that world. He's thirteen now, growing tall and strong. A teenager, fast becoming more focused on discovering the real world and all it holds in store for him. But the memories I have of his very early years, will last me a lifetime.

I absolutely adored this.

Beccy.

[Chris Shaw]

Hello Beccy, be sure to hang on to those memories of your Charlie. I'm sure you will write some great poems about them. Thank you so much for your very generous review. Thrilled you enjoyed the read.

Chris

[Robert Trakofler]

he he of all the things why did I always want to be a pirate LOL the truth of it now makes my skin crawl subservient canon fodder for another's plundering gains hmm I guess that is what I am oh nevermind back to the dreams of far off ocean scenes and adventures on high seas... yes that's much better:) keep that Cutlass shinned for his dreams dear Chris:)

[Chris Shaw]

Hello Bunny, and you too wanted to be a pirate. How that makes me smile. Thank you so much for your visit dear friend.

Chris

[Charlotte e.e. Griffith..]

Beautiful poem! Loved how you combined the intensity of rain, the dark and dreary, with "lakes of puddled opportunity". The contrast of the two ideas really reflected that innocence of childhood play; the making the most of every moment you can! The final stanza finished it wonderfully and showed how well-woven this poem was. Much to be taken from this piece; enjoyed every word of it!

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Charlotte, thank you for your very generous response to my Pirate nostalgia. So pleased you enjoyed the read. All good wishes.

Chris