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Sailor Sim

Oh, there was once a sailor called Sim,
Who thought himself a very clever fellow.
He'd challenge all the men in the port,
Until the sky the next morn had turned yellow.

He made his money,
In gambling and games of skill,
For he was greatly blessed with,
A quick wit and iron will.

One evening in a tavern rowdy,
He offered in toast a drunken behest,
"All my treasures to the one
That I cannot by morrow best."

All this was heard by a damsel,
As lascivious as you please,
Who, for the drink in you hand and the coins in you purse,
Might let you between her knees.

The sailor thought he knew the best,
But the whore, she knew him better.
With a lusty wink she led him upstairs,
And his wrists to the bed did fetter.

Twas like this the maids did find him the next day,
In possession only of his breeches,
And laugh the patrons surely did,
Until their cheeks were pink as peaches.

For pinned above him was a note,
In fair and delicate script,
"Women of my ilk are wily and quick,
For we've not the luxury of being kept.

He offered his treasures to the one who could beat him,
And be sure I beat him well before I took them,
But his breeches he surely did not value,
For he was so eager to lose them!"

Learn more about this author, Shona K.
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