The Island King and the Englishman

27 Mar

Far below from the deep craggy heights,
A breeze brushed through the sweeping bay.
The cat-tail of sand on the green water’s edge,
Threw shadows of spines from the coconut palms

The feathered blue sky in the untouchable distance,
Spills crimson into the dusk silver sea.
Selkirk you are cast ‘till all your etchings are marked,
In this tropical feast for the eyes.

Oh Privateer Stradling and your perilous Cinque Ports,
Do you wish you could see with my sun-bleached eyes now!
Sail on Buccaneer, with your robbin’ and cruisin’
Be gone far away like my old life in Fife.

No longer the king of this beautiful isle,
Duke rescued my memories for a writer.
Years flooding the senses with inspiration,
So Dafoe, to me, I am the author!



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