Pirate Pete

Pete was a Pirate, he sailed o’er the seas
He collected vast treasures with utmost of ease.

Gold coins, and some rubies, and silver aplenty.
And fine Persian rugs? Why, it’s said he had twenty.

And sculptures of princes made of fine carven stone.
He had all of the good things in life, it is known.

He wore a fine hat that would wobble and sway.
And a pair of fine boots in a confident way.

He shouted out “Arr!” in great fiery tones
But then whispered “Excuse me,” when asking for scones.

His golden sword glinted in bright sunny heat
But it mostly sliced cheese for an afternoon treat.

He charted strange maps filled with squiggles and swirls.
Then tucked them away with a giggle and twirl.

In the end, he donated the bullion and pearls
And his cash and his stocks to nice boys and girls.

“You can’t take it with you,” Pete said, sounding wise.
“Paying it forward is life’s greatest prize.”