The Seal Trip by Elizabeth Henry

Whilst seeking seals with Callum Brown,

We spied a buccaneer.

So, with the throttle buried deep,

We sped across the mere.

 

Our rusty vessel rocked and jarred;

It lurched in swells of white.

But still we ventured on and on

To triumph in our plight.

 

We surged across the navy loch,

Inhaling noxious fumes,

Wrapped tight against the Highland wind,

With nothing to consume

 

Except a shelf of finest malt,

Which trembled in the haste,

As Callum veered aside the rocks

With piety and pace.

 

His face was red with ire and rage;

His fist was clenched and clasped.

But as we landed buy the beach,

He simply stood and gasped.

 

Before us was a man in tweeds,

No poacher, thief or crook.

“Och heck,” he said, with cheeks ablush,

“Ah main hae bin mistook!”