A sailor from Trincomalee
Set off for adventure at sea,
He sat in the poop
Of a three-masted sloop
With his two mates, Abdullah and Lee.
“We’re making sail for the Antilles,”
Said the captain, which gave Lee the willies.
“We’ll be in good shape
If we go round the cape.”
Does he think we’re a bunch of hillbillies?
They first passed the Cape of Good Hope
Where they were all blessed by the Pope;
But all his best wishes
Won’t wash any dishes
For that you need water… and soap.
They crossed the Atlantic at last,
After many long days they had passed
Eating off dirty plates
And fighting with mates
Till the loser was tied to the mast.
They then tried to make it a race
With a clipper going to the same place.
“We won’t be as fast
With one fewer mast”
Said Abdullah – he of the long face.
Their expressions could not have been blanker
When they saw the damned clipper at anchor.
“The *!#s must have cheated!”
The captain expleted,
“Either that, or their skipper’s a highly skilled navigator, more than worthy of his commission.”
I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 195, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.