Rhyming Poem about Skipper

Skipper came from far west of Dartmouth.
There he was riding his horse very fast.
In a woolen gown that reached his knee,
a dagger on a lanyard falling free.
Riding his horse in the summer heat all around.
Leaving a tan that turned him brown.
Though his life seemed fine.
He always drunked red, and yellow wine.
If, when he fought, the enemy vessel sank,
he sent his prisoners home; they walked the plank.
After fighting the prisoners, he had such dispatch.
He had none from Hull to Carthage as his rematch.

Lorrae Richardson

8th period

10/10/08