Number 9, 30th April, Chicken Pie

Monday 30th April, (Almost)

Number 9.

Chicken Pie

I've got a little boat called Chicken Pie,
It’s really quite tiny but its mast is high.
It’s made of wood and it’s really very good,
And this is possibly why:

Some boats are in a dreadful state,
For some refurbishment can’t wait.
Some of them are clearly rotten,
And some have simply been forgotten.

Some boats are holed below the line,
Sinking in the mud and brine.
More meanwhile stay just afloat,
But don’t deserve to be called a boat.

For some it’s just a broken mast,
And then there’s those that are stuck fast.
Some sink because they’ve got no bailer,
I know of one sunk on its trailer!

Storms catch out the unprepared,
Going down because they dared ~
Go out in seas they couldn’t cope with,
And crews they didn’t have a hope with.

I’ve been on boats that could still sail,
But un-looked after, badly fail;
It’s not just being watertight,
Some just simply don’t feel right!

Good boats, sometimes, are never used,
While others seem to get abused;
You see them tied up to the pier,
Their owners absent year on year.

It seems an awful waste of cash;
Expensive boats left out to smash
Against each other in the gales,
But contributing to my tales!

But if not for them I would not know,
Quite what a gem I have in tow.
My little dinghy on it’s trailer,
Is a proper little sailor.

© Stephen Saunders

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