Tag Archives: #Seagull

“Pob-bob-bob!” said the gull.

“Pob-bob-Bob!” said the gull.

“Yes.” I replied, but it should be ‘Pob-bob-bob-bob!’ as I have ‘two’ dogs.

“Pob-bob-bob-bob!” said the gull, correcting its earlier error.

“Precisely!” I said, ‘“You’ll get it right next time.”

“Pobbbbbb!” said the gull, which really wasn’t a very nice thing to say at all.

The Black Sea Gull

From the Black Sea?

Or just a black seagull?

Who knows?

I know that I don’t.

But, mine is to ask the questions

that others have no interest in answering.

It’s what I do.

A seagull in time

A seagull in time saves nine,

so they say;

but, who ‘they’ are, is never mentioned.

and what are the ‘nine’ that are to be saved?

Ladies dancing?

I think not.

Laughing Like a Seagull

I was so happy

that I could have laughed like a Seagull;

and, so I did.

See here for a Seagull Laughing

Thor the Thoughtful Seagull – #1

Thor looked down

upon the town

at all the milling people.

Thor thought deeply,

about all manner of things,

and today he thought about… hats.

‘Some people wear hats,’

he mused to himself,

‘whilst others do not.’

thus thought Thor the Thoughtful Seagull.

Then he went on to think of other things.


“A seagull knocked upon my door the other day.”

“A seagull knocked upon my door the other day.”

A seagull knocked upon my door the other day,

“How did he do that?”

I hear you say,

“With his beak.” I reply, “He had no other way – not having knuckles.”

At this, the seagull chuckles;

I didn’t say,

that he went away.

A Seagull Haiku

A Seagull Haiku

Peck, peck – chip? No – peck;

strut, launch, fly, scan, detect, plan;

wait… wait… swoop! Reward.

“Attacked by Seagulls!”

“Attacked by Seagulls!”

We were sitting upon the sandy beach

our ice-creams perched

way out of reach

of the famished gulls;

our sandwiches coated

in a protective sand coating,

watching the colourful boats

within the bay…

when we were silently mocked by a group of louts,

that flocked to here from nearabouts;

their eyes upon the prize

of a stolen lunch,

and with the promise of the following trauma

that then ensues

we had a hunch

that today wasn’t gonna be a good day.

Seagull Swoops

Seagull Swoops

Seagull swoops,

loops the loops,

and captures the moment,

that you lost your food,

forever, in your mind

the bird that had designs upon your treat;

swiped by beak and feet

in one mad rush of adrenalin…


But not forgotten,

as the gull gulps

his Ill-gotten gains,

upon your parade fall the rains.

‘The Tale of the Pasty-Eating, Man-Eating Seagull

‘The Tale of the Pasty-Eating, Man-Eating Seagull

“I was tied up alongside the quay one day,

when I heard the Coxswain to the Boatswain say:

‘Have you ever heard the tale

of the pasty-eating, man-eating seagull?’

‘No!’ replied the Boatswain,

with wonder did he speak,

‘I haven’t heard that tale at all

but twice or thrice this week;

I suppose I’ve little in the way of choice

but to hear it once again.’

‘Little choice indeed!’ then said

the Captain of the boat,

‘tis only through our telling tales

that we keep this craft afloat.’

‘There was an ancient mariner,

who stoppéthed one of three-

but, he’s not in this torrid tale,

there’s only thee and me.

‘One day, the Saucy Sue set sail

and left our harbour home;

we travelled light,

though it were night,

the salty seas to roam.

Setting out from lovely Looe,

as our want was wont to do,

we left the town aways behind,

it was no good as crew.’

‘You said that well.’

the Boatswain cried,

‘much better than before.’

‘Thank ‘ee!’ said the Coxswain,

‘and now, I’ll tell ‘ee more.

‘For three calm days we had fair wind,

though we were in no hurry,

we plied the straits to Dover,

where we stopped off for a curry.’

‘No!’ Spake the Boatswain,

‘we did there no such thing;

we never ate an Indian,

be he just about to sing.’

‘Quite right!’ affirmed the Coxswain,

‘tis wrong to eat a man;

but, here, this tale, it comes to tell

of a certain fair and foul seagull,

who had a different plan.

It was the pasty-eating, man-eating seagull,

of which this tale is all about.

He lived in Dover harbour,

of that there is no doubt;

for I once met him late at night,

upon a lonesome pier;

and if he hadn’t eaten me,

by God, I would be here.’

‘Are you a ghost?’ The Boatswain asked,

‘For, if you are, I be afeared of thee!’

‘No. Calm thee down,

I am just a sailing man,

who loves his old pasty;

could a ghost eat one like this?’

In one gulp he ate it so;

the Boatswain then gasped out, ‘I believe it – No!’

The Coxswain put his mind to sail,

and canvas was set true;

the Boatswain gathered up the ropes,

as Boatswains often do.

“About this gull…?’ the Boatswain said

‘Did it really eat up men,

and make the living, dead?’

‘Indeed it did, and it still does,

it has a hunger great;

it preys on men eating pasties;

and lures them to their fate.’

The horror on the Boatswain’s face,

as the Coxswain told the tale,

was a site to behold;

the Boatswain turned old,

and his hair went gray,

as the Saucy Sue went calmly on her way.

The Coxswain told of many men,

who had all breathéd of their last,

victims of the hungry gull,

‘… who now perches on our mast!’

Aghast, the Boatswain lookéd up,

and aloft did spy the bird;

ill omens seemed to gather there,

as the evil gull took wing to air;

and the Boatswain felt inside

a hunger newly stirred.

‘I must eat a pasty!’

from his mouth,

beneath his breath,

the fatal words were heard;

with a pasty in his hand,

a bite so nearly taken,

and, the Boatswain was so close to death,

at the hands of a seagull, God-forsaken.

Then he bit down, the Boatswain did,

and tasted Cornish Heaven;

the gull did swoop,

all cock-a-hoop,

and ate them both,

the sailor, and his vittles,

‘Oh, Devon!’ the Coxswain swore,

and then he swore a few words more,

at the strange and fearsome sight,

that the written (spoken) word here belittles;

‘twas a sad and fateful night.

The Coxswain and the Boatswain

will sail the seven seas forever,

the Saucy Sue’s a ghost ship now,

and where’er she goes

a sailor knows

she bringeth stormy weather.

The moral of this tale, my friends, is this:

‘Never put to sea

with ghosts as crew;

and, from Dover to Looe,

of pasties do not touch;

for if you do,

it’s the end for you

for as you bite,

there will be

another bite,

the bite of the pasty-eating, man-eating seagull,

who bids you to join his number,

and suffer the fate

of the Coxswain and his mate,

to forever sail the salty seas and never, ever slumber.’ “