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Mrs. Gull of Great Misery Island
who lived on a rock (with a view),
was having a chat with a cormorant that
was nesting on Misery too.
"My Dear," she said, "isn't it AWFUL . . .
those FRIGHTFUL crabs down on the shore
with their odd side-ways walking
have all the birds talking.
. . . I'm AFRAID to go there any more!"
"I know what you mean," said the cormorant.
"It's DISGUSTING! There should be a LAW!
and those HORRIBLE snails
making sticky, wet trails
in the sand is the VERY last straw!"
"Meanwhile, on the shore, Mrs. Snail
met Miss Crab (who was out for her airing).
"My NERVES!" the snail wailed,
are SHOT! . . . I feel JAILED!
I'm so SICK of this house I am wearing! . . .
and, to make matters worse,
I can't SLEEP
with those PESKY birds flying in flocks.
Oh, there's no use my talking,
but such SCREECHING and SQUAWKING
goes on all the time
on those rocks!"
So, that's how it was on the island,
And it kept getting worse, day by day.
There were angry words spoken . . .
Old friendships were broken,
SOMEONE was always
in SOMEBODY'S way.
NEXT
To read more of this story or to find out about
publishing rights, contact Ms Wosmek.
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