Tag Archives: #Seagull

Tom The Seagull @Looe

Tom The Seagull @ Looe

Tom The Seagull,

What a catch,

round by the crabb pot

meets his match;

there is Anna

eating chips,

they pair up

and watch the ships

and boats upon the river;

but Anna she won’t share her fare;

she’s a taker, not a giver.

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The Man with the Gull on his Head

The Man with the Gull on his Head

He never fell to Earth,

or sold the world;

he never had a golden gun,

or left a banner unfurled.

But, he was recognised everywhere,

that he and his passenger went,

from Land’s End to John o’Groats,

from Cape Wrath down to Kent.

“There he is!” the crowds would cry,

“The Seagull with a man under its feet!”

and the man would stop, and sigh;

resigned to be known as such

for ever more,

for the gull, it had forgotten

exactly how to fly.

She Sells Seagull Snaps

She Sells Seagull Snaps

She sells seagull snaps beside the sea;

she tried to sell a seagull snap to me…

Ate My Pasty!

Ate My Pasty!

That seagull,

over there;

the one with the smirk on his face,

ate my pasty!

I only looked away for a second,

and he reckoned that that was time enough – it was;

because, when I looked back,

my pasty bag was empty!

What a numpty am I.

The Seagull Espies

The Seagull Espies

A seagull espied my pasty today;

I saw him; then he saw me, he looked away;

he circled around to take me unaware;

but, I, my pasty, was unwilling to share, so I followed his path,

kept a watch on his place;

he thought for a while,

then a smile came to his face –

and he flew off.

A minute later, there was a cough

right behind me, I turned to look,

a decoy, I beheld, the oldest trick in the book;

and there was my pasty,

gone, in the blink of an eye –

and the two hungry seagulls

laughed, and I did cry.

My Cybertronic Seagull – a song

My Cybertronic Seagull – a song

My seagull has gone rusty,

I left him out last night;

and now he squeaks

when he should squawk;

metallic noises when he walks;

and he can’t fly,

I heard him sigh;

‘I was left out in the rain.’

My Cybertronic Seagull

has seized up in the rain;

I’ll have to feed him tin pasties,

until he’s better again.

My Cybertronic Seagull

has a rusty-coloured hue;

maybe WD40

will help him to pull through.

My Cybertronic Seagull

just stands there on his post;

he may never fly again;

or pinch my morning-toast.

Gull on a Hot Tin Roof

Gull on a Hot Tin Roof

I’m just a gull

tap-dancing on the roof

of a silver Mazda 5,

it’s what I do

to keep my dreams alive

of becoming a dancer

and gracing the stage;

it’s all about talent

and not about age,

when you get to my age,

that is.