Now me and My Pard, took to sailing one day,
Cause we got awfully tried of baling the hay.
We piled the vessel with gear and with grub,
And stepped out onboard and launched the old tub.

Sailed out to the Islands to a sweet little bay,
The kids left at school, yes, this is our day.
The lagoon it was deep, where the halibut wait.
But catching them 'twas not to be in our fate.

Each letting out line, away into the deep,
I state, "I'm on bottom, no more will it creep",
Now Pard looks askance, "You could not be my dear,
Cause my lines still going, ". As he drank down a beer.

Well I tell him I can't let it up or let down,
He questions my brains, as he looks with a frown.
I yank and I pull and I'm stuck down below,
He scowls and insults me and gives me some bull.

When all of a sudden just feet from our ship,
A seagull takes flight at a full-fledged winged clip.
The water it bulges and waves start to form,
My hair stands on end and my brain starts to warn.

A hole it appears in the water just then,
Not ten feet away from where we have just been.
Twice as big as our tug was this monster whale,
It flopped up beside us and we both just went pale.

He snorted and blew as he looked at our tail,
We scooted for sure or we'd soon have to bale.
Yes, catching a whale, I can do you see,
While Pards fish are stubby, he's special to me.

| Return to Poetry Index |
| Seniors-Site Homepage | E-Mail | Site Master |