Eight-line Poems 2

Nautical Nonsense

Nautical Nonsense

Sound eight bells and all is well
Ancient mariner’s tale to tell
Splice the mainbrace, tote that bale
Thar she blows, the whitish whale.

Steady as she goes, another tack
Halfway there and we’ll sail right back
All hands on deck and set the jib
Poor old ship - she’s cracked a rib.


Line count: 8
Rhymed aabb
For Express It In Eight, 06.30.25
Prompt: None.