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Traveller Poems


Thank you to Mr Colin McAllister for this poem on the MS Island Sky - sentiments we all share at the moment


 Island Sky 

 I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky

And all I ask is to embark again on the good ship Island Sky.

For this is a ship where the food is good and the wine flows free

And there is no other ship on which I would rather be.


I must go down to the seas again, for the call of a marine cruise

Is a call to visit new places along with lots of booze,

And all I ask is new friends to meet and new stories to hear

And good times to have shared when journey’s end is near.


I must go down to the seas again, while my body still has life,

There to sail away from life’s travail and all its trouble and strife,

And all I ask is good shipmates and laughter and lots of fun

And good memories to take home when the cruise is finally done.


Thank you to Steve Day for this poem  


   A Noble Caledonian!

The last day of our cruise we got the big news – Oh gawd! There’s a Lordship on board…

We don’t know his name and there’s no-one to blame

for the news of this Lordship  aboard.

We saved hard the fly-cruise to afford and now we’re abroad 

Oh gawd! – there’s this Lordship on board!

His profile’s been kept low, he may have someone ‘in tow’

to look after his ceremonial sword.

But we haven’t been bored while the ship has been moored 

With his Lordship’s presence on board…

The wine has been poured and the islands’ have been toured

And all with his Lordship on board!

The wind it has roared and the sea’s had us floored

[Even John the good vicar was driven to liquor!]

But his Lordship didn’t go overboard!

We’ve been jumping through hoops

[Except the girls with ‘Two Soups’]

And all with his Lordship on board.

The meat we have gnawed and at night we have snored

While his Lordship’s been sleeping on board!

We don’t know his name as it’s part of his game 

      Anonymity is part of his ‘hoard’.

Someone said ‘He’s a Scot’ - and his name might be Ian’

[We’ve had three by that name already!]

But to give due accord to the anonymous Lord

       He should be a Noble-Called-ian!


Thank you to Barbara Whitehead for this poem 


 A Penguin's eye view

 November has come and at this time of the year

Ecotourists repeatedly start to appear.

We were once apprehensive but now we don't fuss - 

Though there's hundreds of you, there are thousands of us.


We find you endearing. Your penguinoid ways

Which are most fascinating, enthral us for days.

You walk just like us and there are time when you speak

We could imagine each human unique.


That you're all penguin friendly there can be no doubt,

But what you come here for we can not figure out.

You do not build your nests here or breed and raise chicks

And your flippers adapt to perform many tricks.


'Cos small groups come ashore in a Zodiac boat,

We infer that the chance you can swim is remote.

And, pray, what does your species have wrong with its sight

That you need tubes called "bins" to help see thing aright?


Mysterious boxes with thei shutter that click

Are beyond comprehension. We're not always quick

To work out in the field just what the things do.

We have only seen one human being - in a zoo!


Now i''ll tell you a secret. How else could you know

What occurs here when all the ships' passengers go?

There's frenzied excitement and a buzz in the air

As each penguin most eagerly starts to prepare.


At the end of the season, before we leave land,

There's the Antarctic Ball - an occasion so grand,

When we penguins dress up in our smart human suits

And we wear our red parkas and big rubber boots.


We sing and we dance and upon krill we do feast

Then leap into the sea, having promised at least

That we'll meet up again at the same place next year.

You would all be most welcome to join us out here.


Antarctica Feb'97