The Pirate who couldn’t say ‘Arrr!’

A lipogram
 
I’m a gentleman dandy of hot and high seas:
I sail as I like, and I steal what I please!
With my leg made of teak, and a patch on one eye,
I devastate shipping – my black flag flies high
above islands and inlets, the whole Spanish Main;
of all fat wealthy galleons, I am the bane!
 
But I’m thinking of quitting – though not out of choice –
this lifestyle of mine will play hell with the voice:
all the salt in the winds, all that shouting “Avast!”,
(plus the gunsmoke you swallow while climbing the mast),
that takes quite a toll on the lungs, don’t you know –
which isn’t conducive to daunting one’s foe.
 
See, last week, off the coast of the Île de la Vache,
I spotted the sail of a ship filled with cash.
So we chased up abeam of this affluent sloop,
and, with cutlass and pistol, I swung to the poop;
I attempted a yell, my most awesome-est shout
but to my amazement – nothing came out!
 
No, all that came out was a soft, gentle “Ahhh…” –
Why, they laughed me post-haste back to old Panama!
Oh, the giggling, the gibing, the taunting, the shame!
(Not to mention the damage it’s done to my fame!)
Can I honestly style myself ‘ Jacob the Violent’
when even the kids call me ‘Little Jack Silent’?
 
(with thanks to Leanne Moden and Dan Clark,
from whom I shamelessly plundered the idea)

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