I found a
message in a bottle
From a man
across the sea.
He’d been on a
boat
That had failed
to float.
And now he’s
writing to me.
He lives alone
on an island,
With a palm tree
to give him some shade.
He eats all the
fish
He could ever
wish,
And drinks some
old lemonade.
At night time he
hears the whales singing
Far far out to
sea.
While the moon
shines bright,
With warm yellow
light,
Like a friend
he’s invited to tea.
He sips coconut
milk for his breakfast
And figs make a
lovely feast.
For supper he’ll
eat
An octopus
treat,
In a sandwich
made out of leaves.
He’s made a
beautiful house out of palm fronds,
With a window
studded with beads.
He’s built a
soft bed,
Made from the
threads
Of a floating
piece of seaweed.
He rescued one
book from the shipwreck,
About a man who
lived with the apes.
And he’s
building a boat,
Made from old
rope,
In the hope that
he’ll one day escape.
He says he’s
really quite happy,
With the
sunshine and all the fresh air.
But he’d really
quite cheer
For a cold pint
of beer
And someone to
cut his long hair.
Sometimes on the
distant horizon,
A boat will
slowly pass by,
But he won’t
call for help,
He’ll let out a
yelp,
Then run to the
forest and hide.
I think he
prefers his island.
The silence, the
peace and the rest.
The very idea
That no one is
near
For him is the
absolute best.
He builds his
boat for something to do,
While he
whittles the time away.
He has no need
To ever be free
From his forever
holiday.
