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The Strait of Rondaleigh
The simian sailor launched his boat
In a bobbing and bouncing sea
He was happy to have the dingy float
As he counted waves as high as trees
He sailed south without an oar
Into the Strait of Rondaleigh
Standing at the helm on a board
He watched the sunset dance a play
A baseball cap shaded his eyes
White sneakers covered his feet
He sailed under the bluest skies
Wishing his dingy was a navy fleet
His cargo was a banana bunch
His passenger was a goat
They had banana and cheese for lunch
With rum to ease their throats
©10/28/08Terry |
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
