The Bethlehem Magnetometer
When skies are grey, the darkest thought
Can quite blot out the moon
And scare the galleons back to port
More swift than a typhoon
As fearful seamen, often caught
Within their tearful fears,
Prepare to hear the loud bassoon
Evoke a seaman's tears,
and leave the last restort
When skies are blue, a cheerful smile
Can quite blot out the sun
And coax the cutters out to sea,
To watch the right whales run
a league or more, a sailor's mile
Beyond their tearful fears
Beyond the zone all mermaids shun
Towards the fearful weirs
Where octopi resile
When skis are cold, the freshest ice
Can quite blot out the stars
And lure toboggans up the hill
While glow-worms hum in jars
The shanty that, by sound advice
Shall steadfast sturdy stand,
Like youths bestriding bumper-cars
While sliding down the Strand
Who seldom reminice
When skuas cry, the brightest star
Deserts the Milky Way
To lurk among the murky waves
That hold the tide at bay
While we retrieve our sunken car
From interstellar space
While we prepare the supper tray
And half-remember Grace
Who made us what we are
| Contributors: | TG, Roland, P, Stacy, The Agent Apsley, Mick. |
| Poem finished: | 21st December 1997. |