There’s a map, in whose treasures know not I.
No ruby, emeralds, or Dabloons reside.
There’s no treaty by which I’m bound to abide.
Hidden crowns gold, dripping silver so alive.
The pirate in me razes, rum drinking by slides,
Statues of marble from the crypt I hide.
Burying paintings, my beloved Renoir’s,
X Marks the spot where all treasure confides.
But I’ll not tell you it’s value hid deep.
Presence lost in jungle, where spiders creep,
Deadly venom, no cure can fight, to speak.
The map survives, a tattoo inked in sleep,
Adventure awaits, your life to beseech.
Trespassers beware; in quicksand you’ll weep.
©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.