Soon other pirates on the main
Noticed that time and again
Captain Blood and his now lithe crew
Seemed to easily outdo
Their own wheezing attempts to scale
Merchant ships to down their sails.
Once-feared, rival buccaneers
Found themselves the butt of sneers
Their unfit crews became bad news
To jades who used to bill and coo
And take them to their beds.

Before long, the rivals realised
Their crews needed exercise
And sought alternate systems
Scowling Blackbeard devised
Daily, morning Boxercise,
He also started to apply
Aromatherapy.
'Though God knows why?
Because even sailing in a hooley
That tell-tale whiff of patchouli
Reached each intended prize
Well before his ship arrived

Captain Kidd, not to be out bid,
And feeling he was on the skids
Insisted on Tai Chi at dawn
And a diet based on Quorn
But his treasure would not grow
His team were fit, but much too slow
Tai Chi, you see, is slo-mo P.E.
Not ideal for piracy

Every morning Captain Morgan
Fed up with the sight of retching
Introduced intensive stretching
As well as brand-new active-wear
He was sure a trendy label
Was just the thing to enable
His crew's morale to build
And capture ships at will.
However, these ruffians
In their spruce new gear,
Shouted out as one: “ NO fear!”
We will not risk a stain or tear
To our lovely leisurewear

In no time, every rogue and ne'er-do-well
Had latched on to this fitness spell
And opened keep fit studios
From Tortuga to fair Curacao
Tempting all those privateers
With ways to boost their foul careers
Capoeira for corsairs
Boot camps for buccaneers
Zumba to a hornpipe beat
Taekwando for the fleet elite
Karate for that boarding party
In the end, these pirates
Did nought all day but train,
And that is why they roam no more
On the Spanish Main.

It was only a quick dip
No time to doff my coat and stole
No points for style in the dive
It was more of a victory roll
I had never seen the dock
From below its murky surface sheen
Its bottom muddy like my ships’
That the tide washed clean
On their way to the Channel
And Afrika’s shore
Loaded to the gunwales
With goods to buy more
Cargoes of misery and utter despair
But what wealth they did bring me
What a lifestyle so fair
Money beyond avarice’s dreams
Out of my hearing, the captives’ screams

It took the young not the merchants
To see through my spin
It was their ropes and effort
That dropped me in
I had been on that plinth
For over a century
Hoping that no-one
Would notice my sin

And the sound of my fall
Has circled the earth
Bristol again showing its worth
This city of sanctuary, this city of arts
This city of people from diverse parts
This City of Banksy and Massive Attack
This city of Brunel and railway tracks

I know Bristol’s not perfect by any means
But as a place to live. it gets in your genes
And if you leave it for good
I’m sure that you’ll find
That Bristol goes with you
Forever in mind

Written by David C Johnson©12th June 2020