Off the Coast of Macaroon


Off the Coast of Macaroon gray-whale

Off the coast of Macaroon,
I set out to catch a whale.
Teacup for barquentine,
napkin for a sail.

The harpoon was a salad fork,
the rudder was a spoon.
No finer craft ever braved a wave,
Off the coast of Macaroon.

Yet off the coast of Macaroon,
there was no craft that could prevail,
against a dozen hurricanes,
some light drizzle, and a gale.

I’m lucky to have made the shore,
I wouldn’t be alive to tell the tale,
but for a raft of buttered toast,
of which I made a good avail.

Off the coast of Macaroon,
I’m gonna go and catch a whale.
I’m gonna need a bigger boat,
next time I’ll use a pail.

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Angie's Diary