THE JOLLY SAILOR

  THE JOLLY SAILOR 

By Peter Woodgate

I knew a jolly sailor

He went to see, of course

Not sea because he cannot swim

But he could ride a horse.

He thought that he could make some dosh

And went to the race track near by

He pretended that he was a jockey

I’m a champion they heard him cry.

The owners of the favourite horse

Allowed him to ride their prize mare

Unaware that he had agreed to a deal

That would bring him half of the share.

Well the race went ahead

And off went the horse

Heavily backed to win it was

But came in last of course.

There was an enquiry

An outcry, I think,

Then the sailor, not jolly,

Was locked away in the clink.

It was a short sentence

And the sailor was free

Whilst serving in jail

He dreamt of the sea

So down to Southend

He went full throttle

Then low and behold

He found a strange bottle

Not just the bottle

A letter inside

It was still readable

Despite the strong tide.

As he read the strange letter

He was horrified to note

A young lass was marooned

On Canvey, afloat.

So off strait away

And jolly once more

the sailor would rescue

Her from the distant shore.

Well, to cut it short

Imagine the glee

When he first saw her

And she looked at he

What followed was love

At first sight, no less

And now on the telly

O My what a mess.

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate