I was there, I saw it, Beaufort, North Caroline
A hamlet of sorts, ocean hugged, just sublime,
There’s a house near the water, on its front a sign seared
“Beware all who enter. This was the home of Blackbeard.”
Born 1680, England’s Bristol, Teach or Tack by name,
Fictitious personas, it’s the pirate’s game.
He sailed for the Caribbean as a ****** of the time;
From home port of Jamaica, fighting Annie’s war before turning crime.
Two captains by his side, they plundered merchant ships,
Cargo seized, often vessels, on their pirating trips.
A man with a thick beard, braided black in pigtails;
The ominous harbinger; full wind in his sails.
No captives were harmed, yet many vessels met their graves;
His ferocious reputation could be viewed with some praise.
In 1718, now a commodore, at the height of power,
He blocked the port of Charles Town, no guard ships, no search tower.
For a week; nine vessels stripped, the Crowley’s plutocrats were held,
Passengers questioned, then locked below, then an exchange, unparalleled.
The lives of men for medication, and maybe some trinkets on the sly,
They set sail for home port, run aground, problems intensify.
Once home, Blackbeard was offered a Royal Pardon from the British court
And that’s why the seared sign is on a home in Beaufort.
