OK, the result of this blog’s National talk Like a Pirate competition can finally be announced. It’s taken a bit of time because I had to get two other judges involved to avoid claims of corruption, the winner won my last competition AND I had publicly claimed I could be bribed. HOWEVER no chocolate passed hands and the winner is …..
….
….
Congratulations, and a prize on its way. Commiserations to the other entrants, but it kind of felt to me that you’d had fun doing it anyway. Hope so.
Here’s the winning poem:
A Wes’ Coun’ry Lass
Now, I not be the sort o’ wench
Findin’ themselves lyin’ overflowin’,
Loaded to the Gunwales,
Entertain’ Corsairs at nightfall
An’ greasin’ me womanly form
By day,
‘N’ goin’ pink
(‘cept not with shame),
Lef’ with a son of a biscuit eater
Or worse, a black spot!
Wha’ kin’ of booty is tha’?
Aye, me ain’ no landlubber for sure
Tho’ I ain’ goin’ thar abroad
Like some squiffy,
No’ because I’m lily-livered
but give me the Wes’ Coun’ry
Any day an’ I’ll show you
How the gen’lemen of fortune
Appreciate a sweet lass like me
After the roar of their sweet trade
An’ the suppin’ of their grog
Wi’ a well-filled pasty.
I bein’ so popular wi’ ‘em Jacks
‘At words got’ ’round
An’ whole squadrons
Sample my charms,
So for pieces of eight
They get me warm moist pastry,
Drippin’ steak an’ onion;
A taste of the’ good ol’ Wes’ Coun’ry
Baked in my oven.
Well, whadya think I meant?
Ya scurvy dog!



