The Samson spirits join the party for a trip to the Scillies' own Bird Island :>o
Our picture is from prestigeholidays.co.uk ('A bit posh, but we like the puffins' :>))
To AnnetThree times the Samson spirits sang their mournful fury song
and at the third FT, dear Coo, and mossops sang along;
this pleased the spirits and they gathered round the little group.
'Good day, good spirits,' chirped dear Coo. 'Now, would you like some soup?'
'We would indeed,' the spirits sang. 'Woo-hoo! Do come aboard,'
invited Coo. 'Our ship is small yet has a hefty hoard
of tasty veggies, herbs, and spices, mushrooms from a trove
we found on Tresco, and we have a competent gas stove.'
'Yay, mushrooms!' cheered the merry mossops. 'Well, that does sound nice,'
the spirits sang, 'especially with a fresh hot buttered slice
of toast, perhaps.' ''Twould be our utmost pleasure!' nodded Coo,
so all the spirits leaped on board and formed an eager queue.
FT had heated butter, onions, garlic until soft,
then added mushrooms, finely diced – the scent began to waft
towards the noses of the spirits. 'Yum!' they sang with glee;
last, FT threw in spices, herbs, some cream, some melted brie.
All sat on deck and feasted on the mushroom soup and toast,
washed down with beer from Bryher Isle, full brewed on eastern coast;
'Now, how's about a trip,' asked Coo, 'just 2.6 sea miles?'
'We'd like that very much!' the spirits sang, with earnest smiles.
So all sailed south, from Samson to a modest mass of land –
'Annet,' informed dear Coo, 'with granite carns 'midst soily sand,
remains of prehistoric circled hut and cattle bones,
and limpet middens, highly stacked, resembling piles of stones.'
'But best of all,' the colombine paused here, performed a dance,
'this is an isle of birds, whose songs induce a pleasant trance!'
And sure enough, a symphony of singings could be heard
of gulls and pipits, puffins, wrens, so many types of bird.
The spirits smiled anew, their former fury rather less;
it seemed the bright-toned birdsong served to lessen their distress.
'Our thanks!' they sang as FT, Coo, and mossops bade goodbye,
Coo having made a gift of seeds – some mushroom and some rye.
Poetry by Coo & Co
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Written on 2018-09-24 at 23:23
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