For my dear sister Sam xx Blu-tack Beard the Pirate Nestled - TopicsExpress

For my dear sister Sam xx Blu-tack Beard the Pirate Nestled in a pencil case And snuggled up in fluff There snoozed a tiny pirate man Of legendary stuff Hed spied the hidden secrets And trod the haunted shore Blu-tack Beard the buccaneer Scourge of the open floor He stole a shoe-box galleon And sailed the carpet blue With pencil mast and paper sails And crayons as his crew They forayed on the crooked tiles And crested every ridge Blu-tack Beard the scallywag The raider of the fridge When moored up in the kitchen With all his crew around The captain showed to one and all A treasure map hed found It bore a chart of distant parts And quite a course it plot It pointed to the bathroom lands And tip-ex marked the spot They crammed the hold with cornflakes To feed them on their trip They pulled hard on the piece of string And weighed the paperclip The crew they dragged their boat aloft On neatly woven hairs Blu-tack Beard the privateer Surmounter of the stairs They heaved their vessel restlessly Atop the final brow The crayon pirates caught their breath And leaned against her bow Then scaled tiny ladders And each took to their post Blu-tack Beard was at the helm And watched the foreign coast Through countless minutes voyaging There loomed the bathroom door They slacked the sail and went below And each took to an oar They pulled a mighty rhythm Till their waxy arms were numb And Blu-tack Beard the plunderer Was beater of the drum But though they pried in every nook And each last inch of grout They skirted round the skirting board They tapped each silver spout Illusive was their bounty And they grew ever the crueler They took their skipper angrily And made him walk the ruler He landed glum and ruefully Amid the laundry heap He heard the merry taunting But refused to stop and weep And saw the sight of mutiny With waxen little smiles Blu-tack Beard the cast-away Alone among the tiles He commandeered a washing cloth And weaved himself a rope He scaled the dreaded washstand And stole a bar of soap He carved himself a coracle And set his sights on home Blu-tack Beard the wanderer Awash amid the foam He slithered down the stairwell And landed with a plan For warmer climes and restfulness A cocktail and a tan And so he met his final port Right then did he retire Blu-tack Beard the pensioner Of the warm spot near the fire

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