Whales are Silent Warriors
Little children, gather 'round and I will tell a tale
Of when I was a little boy, and rode upon a whale
And how the coogills followed us and trilled this purple song:
"Where are you going, Billy Fing, we'd like to come along"
"My whale and I are searching, friends, for Jam-and-Jelly James"
If only we could find a way to spell their silly names
Surprisingly, and all at once, a porpoise joined our fleet
But then a tuna fishing boat caught him as tuna meat
The Calico Rhinoceros on Qualgar's silver shore
Was waiting there to greet us, and curtsied when he saw
Me riding oh-so-grandly there, astride that noble beast
We came ashore, and on the beach was laid a royal feast.
I dined with great alacrity; and yet, the hungry whale
Looked on most mournfully; it's hide began to pale
For they were serving tuna...and the color wasn't right
Tuna should be dark you see, and this was rather light
And then I saw a tattoo--Thelma--in the salad!
I remembered then my love, and sang a lonely ballad
At that, the whale began to wail, "Thelma ... is ... my name"
I knew I'd done her wrong, and hung my head in shame.
"Don't feel bad", she said to me, "for eating Dearest Max"
"You couldn't know he was my friend, I hadn't given you the facts"
"Our friendship was platonic, yet our love deep, like the sea"
"He organized the mermaids' ball, and also, without fee
"I'll always fondly think of him, happy in your stomach"
"And, no doubt, when I tell you this, you'll consider me a comic"
But a tear welled in her eye, and my heart went out to Thelma
And also to myself for I had gotten salmonella
So there I lay quite sickly, upon that silver beach
I reached for Pepto Bismol, but that I could not reach
And this, I felt, was just desserts for eating Dearest Max
So, children, if you get the trots, the moral is: relax
| Contributors: | F, Nym, Evan, unkempt, snood, asdf, Neil, Kansas Sam, Francine, Nym (hi F), F (hi, N & all). |
| Poem finished: | 23rd July 2003. |