ramblings and things

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2022 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   1303375 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
Bathtime Blues

Appearance

How long

Expat

Exploitation



Judy 1938 - 2024

Yesterday

Grazing

Pome For The Day.

David Cherry

A Catography

Fatigue

State Of The Union

Manifesto For Truth

People Watching

Vowels

Rude Awakening

Jack of All Trades

At The Moulin Rouge

Weather

Sitrep

Longest Day 6 June 1944

Climate Matters

Watchers?

The Sleeping Giant

Goodbye Mr. Moon

Singing With Scouse

As Yet Untitled

Cowden Beach, East Riding

Le Petomane

Conscripts

Jousting Part Ii

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

lorelei blues


she was a sassy little mermaid
with only one ardent wish
to wreak havoc on mankind
for introducing chips to fish
she'd sit upon that lorelei rock
and keep her constant check
and in the cold weather wore
a cardi zipped up to her neck
but when she spotted a ship
she'd strip down to her vest
which was artfully cut so it
showed off her splendid chest
she'd sing her siren song
and lure them to their doom
there's many a lovelorn sailor
in a cold and watery tomb
one cold september morning
she was singing for her catch
and she lured a certain vessel
and there she met her match
she tried for an old hull trawler
not sure where he should be
the skipper had gone and turned
wrong way from the north sea
and he wouldn't tell his crew
no matter what the cost
that they'd be late home
because he'd got a bit lost
then he heard our little mermaid
and her wailing was the last straw
a carefully aimed beer bottle ensured
she bother ed them no more
and while she was thus concussed
he got his sextant out
and realising his mistake
went and turned the ship about
he arrived home a day or so late
but he went and told the crew
they'd been on a secret mission
and they believed him like you do
he never thought any more
about his little slip
nor did he remember the little maid
he'd nearly brained on that eventful trip
the effect on her was terrible
she turned reclusive and very shy
those waters now are quiet and safe
near that once dread lorelei
as for those hull trawlers
they go to sea no more
cos mrs thatcher sold them out
when we lost that last cod war







Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem