Me own true love would be riding the ocean waves with me ship, her bow dipping forward as she slices through the salty water. Me own true love is the spray of the invigorating mist of wind and sea tears caressing my face as I take the helm. Me own true love is the cry of the gulls overhead as they follow me ship in hopes of a meal. But most of all me own true love is coming about and heading to port with a load of plenty booty and all hands safe and alive, coming home to rest me weary bones with a huge tankard of rum and a hearty meal, warm and satisfied. Toasting me mates with a grin and a yo ho ho, and hearing them cheer their captain in return. That be a fine love to have!