| A crew of stinky pirates Sails the seven seas. Red pimples on their noses, Hard scabs upon their knees. |  |
| The pong that pongs aboard their ship Would make your stomach ill. But Reeking Raj just loves it, And so does Belching Bill. They stink of grunge and grottiness, They never wash, you see. But they are not as smelly As their Captain, Amilee. Amilee, who loves to cook, Makes grub for all the crew. Gloopy, gooey soup of squid, And scummy fish-head stew. Her eel-gut pie's horrendous, But the crew, they slide it down, Down inside their dirty throats, Without a yuck or frown. Their stomachs full, the captain sails In search of gold doubloons. Her secret weapon loaded With the power of typhoons. She has no need of cannon, No swords, or blunderbuss. No cutlasses, no knives of steel, For she has stench and pus. Bonjour! Alors! Toot-sweet, cherie! She cries in frightful French. Give in. Give up. We ‘av perfumes! We ‘ave ze deadly stench! With bottom gusts and whiffy winds They aim their dreadful stink. And all the shipshape sailors Turn purple, puce, and pink. The pirates burp gigantic burps That roll across the waves. Their victims leap from port and bow Into their watery graves. Big Belching Bill discovers, A brass bound chest of old. Then Raj shrieks, 'There be treasure! It's gems and jewels and gold!' He leaps into the rigging. He shouts out, 'Cheer with me! For our secret deadly weapon, And our Captain, Amilee.' Poem ©2013 Em Lynas Illustration ©2013 Mike Brownlow |
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