A poem for today

[Twister_Ken]

Seems our favourite sea poem are even older than parahandy.

What we need are poems for today. Here's my modest starter for ten.

Oh, they were a motley crew
From all quarters drawn
None picked for their intelligence
Nor even for their brawn
They came from yard skips far and near
From chandlers’ upper shelves
From online auctions and the like
From deep dark locker delves

The captain he was Ray Marine
The first mate’s name was Brookes
Gatehouse did the cooking
While Jeckell cooked the books
Trimming sails was Lew Mar’s job
The mechanic he was Bruce
North and Hood were helmsmen
The Norseman’s bowels were loose

They vowed to cross the ocean wide
From Thames to Timbuktu
Dan Forth on the fore deck
Blake’s baby in the loo
But something happened, out of sight
Of land, down Biscay way
May Day was heard a-calling
For a course to Biscayne Cay

Did they get there? Did they heck.
Their boat all wrecked and bust
By ‘butting blokes in a two hulled craft
Overpowered by a gust
Sad to say no more was heard
Of Ray and his bargain crew
But rumours abound, around the world
They’re guesting at a Jumble, in a field outside of Looe.

 

[Parsonsheath]

A for effort, but young Coleridge nearly OD'D in his search for the weird, so let your hair down and ask Miss Moss's young man Pete for some of his "inspiration!

 

[Bajansailor]

Brilliant! /forums/images/graemlins/ooo.gif

 

[Seven Spades]

Not up to your standards I am afraid:-

There was a young sailor named Jim,
Whose boat was long and thin,
His topside were wet,
Cos he'd healed to the left,
And now he is drinking a Gin.

 

[yoty]

I had a yot ‘er name was Dot She had two purple sails

her mast seemed bent so aloft I went even in the raging gales.


I hoist above a gert great hammer intent on making straighter.

But I dropped the hammer with an ‘ell of a clammer and it hit me poor old mater.


I hurried below just to say ‘ello, and try and see if I could thank her

but she gave me a clout with a bottle of stout and called me a useless banker.


Just then the tiller came adrift and we started all to wander

me mother seemed not to notice this so I said “‘ave yer ad a gander?”


Oh bugger she cried as the mess she spied “I think we’re all a doomed”

And she ran to the tender and flung out a fender as her past before her loomed.


As the ship went down I’d an ‘ell of a frown cos the insurance were not sent

But me mother said son when you have quite done the mast was never bent.


This story has a moral too, you forumites are told

If you’re ever at sea with me mother and me make sure that the tiller will hold.

 

[yoty]

sorry! /forums/images/graemlins/blush.gif