bewitched...

EGG-SHELLS

By Elizabeth Fleming

Oh, never leave your egg-shells unbroken in the cup;

Think of us poor sailor- men and always smash them up,

For witches come and find them and sail away to sea,

And make a lot of misery for mariners like me.

They take them to the sea-shore and set them on the tide-

A broom-stick for a paddle is all they have to guide-

And off they go to China or round the ports of Spain,

To try and keep our sailing ships from coming home again.

They call up all the tempests from Davy Jones's store,

And blow us into waters where we haven't been before;

And when the masts are falling in splinters on the wrecks,

The witches climb the rigging ropes and dance upon the decks.

So never leave your egg-shells unbroken in the cup;

Think of us poor sailor-men and always smash them up;

For witches come and find them and sail away to sea.

And make a lot of misery for mariners like me.

{poem via hayden-harnett}