The Spoonbill Generator

The Maritime Suction

On this desolate beach, a lost trinket [Apsley]

On this desolate poet, a lost concept [dan]

On a distant shore miles from land [Nigel Sly]

(Though many might not even think it) [Apsley]

A hole in hull is cause to sink it [dan]

For the ultimate peace, a sound precept: [Apsley]

For the ultimate joy, a sound night's sleep [Beefy]

For a decent snore, don't count sheep [fester]

Though it's been quite a while since she slept [Beefy]

If well trained she'd be rather adept [fester]

If the quartermast snaps, oh I don't know [dan]

If the quartermast falls, oh will I drown? [fester]

If the captain says "Swim for it!" [Beefy]

(Though in a calm and quiet voice) [Grayman]

Ye'll, sweet sailor, have nairy a choice. [Englishqueen]

Contributors: Apsley, dan, Nigel Sly, Beefy, fester, Grayman, Englishqueen.
Poem finished: 11th April 2002.