I wrote this pastiche of Coleridge fairly quickly with the original alongside to check, and while some resemblances are planned, it was only later I realised how close it was to the original. So I thought I'd do a comparison.
Coleridge's version is of course much longer. Perhaps because mine was shorter, and also not to confuse people, I kept mine regular (all verses of four lines with only the second and fourth lines rhyming, but sometimes with an internal rhyme in one of the other lines (like Coleridge's "Instead of a cross, the albatross...". This is the form Coleridge uses for most of his poem, but he does depart from it in places - very experimental for his time.
In his story, a man is intercepted by the Ancient Mariner against his will and is told the Mariner's story. He interrupts early on and then just listens. At the end he goes away changed. In my version a woman is intercepted against her will by the Ancient Barrister, who spanks her and tells her his story. She interrupts early on and then just listens. At the end she goes away changed.
The story told by the old man also resembles the original but not so closely. In the original, a ship sails in promising conditions but gets into trouble. It's saved by an albatross, but the Mariner treacherously shoots it, and takes the consequences. In my version a boat sails in promising conditions but gets into trouble. It's saved by a policewoman called Mandy Ross pushing it off from where it was grounded, but after she's fallen in the water and been rescued, she's treacherously spanked by the Barrister, who takes the consequences (a spanking obsession).
Some of the lines in my version obviously mimic the original ("A sun came up" becomes "a bum came up"; "may'st hear the merry din" becomes "may'st hear the muzzein" and so on). It also employs a common device of pastiches which you could call belittlement: the ocean-going ship of the original becomes a pleasure boat, the Southern Ocean becomes the River Thames. Finally, like Coleridge, I use archaic language - some of his ("eftsoons") and some of my own ("girt").
What I don't mimic, of course, is Coleridge's beauty of language and image: "And ice mast-high went floating by/ As green as emerald"). | 
