Arrhaar me hearties! 'tis International Talk Like A Pirate Day, an' I be goin' to talk like a Pirate for the rest o' this day!
'Tis a pity because I be wantin' to talk more about that poesy-writin' Emily Dickinson, an' her poemy piece, arrh..... how do it go now?........
how slow the Wind-
how slow the sea-
how slow their Fathers be!
Aye that be it! Keel haul me over a raspy bottom if I ain't just seen the meanin' o' the piece. For 'tis as plain as the pigtail on a bosun's shoulder that the Fathers be a set o' land-lubbin fishermen, sailin' home wi' the catch o' the day in their wormy holds.
An' the little babbies....aye the little babbies, they be waitin' at home for their daddies to bring home the sea fishies for the mammies to cook for their tea. An' the daddies be takin' a cod-bafflin' long time about it!
'Tis a fin-ticklin' mystery why I never did realise that 'afore !
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