As Ever Like the Sun & Moon at War

6- ☼☼ -II

a bed belong'd to first mate now been claim'd

by Sea in much the way our song relay'd."

The notion of the occupation they

now hold of bedding that belong'd t'a man

who's dead beneath the sea and in the gut               50

of animals below the surface doth         

not sit so well with them, but still they press

beyond this information, t'ward their goal

as Pilgrim steadies voice and then responds:

"We've come above to make request of ye,

who as the Captain holds th'ability,

as granted by your church to marry two

upon your ship who wish it done before

the docking at our destination, as

the two of us can wait no longer for              60

a proper ceremony; neither would   

we have a list of people to invite."

The Captain eyes them up and strokes his beard

of braided black before he forms the words:

"Ye'd ask of me, who barely knows ye both,

to marry ye right here, upon me ship,

despite the only ones to witness yer

most sacred union be me foulest crew?"

Our duo nods to this, which causes pause

again as Captain thinks for moment's time                 70

before he turns and shouts toward his crew:        

"Retrieve the grog, me lads! And also wine

'cause lady's taste, I'd think, prefers the smooth

of flavours, fragrance delicate upon

the nose and palate. Bring as well some meats

and breads 'cause though the journey's only launch'd,

th'occasion calls indulgence for its match."

The Spouse, who once, of course, did own a bar,

doth arch a brow at this to says to him:

"I'm able t'handle beer like anyone                 80

and likely shall partake of half a mug         

to quench my thirst, but shan't imbibe the rest—

despite that I'd enjoy out-drinking ye—

for I've a babe to keep me healthy for,

and naught of other reasons holds me back."

The Captain laughs with shaking head and says:

"I doubt it not ye'd drink like one of us;

me ref'rence was toward yer meeker half."

Our Pilgrim furrows brow as Captain laughs

again and to his side the Spouse as well,                90

but on her resting head upon his arm       

his irritation melts away again,

replac'd with his elation at this day.

The deck is scrubb'd and mugs are handed round

upon their filling at a keg that's plac'd

beside the balustrade around the deck,

and under th'wheel—steer'd by someone else—

the Captain stands upon the deck at rear

amidships by the door that leads t'his room,

and straight ahead of him our duo stands               100

with hands in hands and gazes meeting eyes        

whilst sailors fill from starboard beam to port

with songs of merriment until, with wave,

the Captain silences the lot of them

and clears his throat to speak toward the crowd:

"We're gather'd here to witness by the Sea,

so calm—forgiving of our prior wrongs—

and winds to give their breath toward our lungs

and sails up above to push us on

with skies of blue and sun to beam on us,            110

the sacred union of this lovely pair,          

who wish to seal now the love they share

with vows of matrimony, which they'll save

til either one is swallow'd 'neath the waves,

no longer able t'hold or give what's gave

by lovers of a pair who form this bond,

so comp'rable to links of iron strong

in flex and durability, so on,

yet more akin to gold and silver arts

in beauty manifested twixt these hearts,                 120

and if ye none should argue, now ye hark. . ."          

He leans toward the Spouse and says aside:

"Yer last of chances, lass, to say a word

afore this man hath hold; tis not too late!"

The Spouse doth stifle laugh at this and he

now turns to Pilgrim with a wink to show

he's only making fun ere going on:

". . .I now pronounce the two who stand as twain

to tie themselves together once again

as once they were 'fore birth'd upon the plane              130

of land from Sea—now wedded, link yer chains."       

Our Pilgrim leans and presses lips upon

his Spouse's, holding her not as his love

alone, but now his wife, companion for

the rest of life ahead, and knowing well

that with their souls now lock'd and intertwin'd,

wherever they'll arrive is paradise.                    137