The Tale of the Crail Crab, Tae a Fisherman He Speak Wi

A new poem by Lauren Clarke

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man, are you alright

how’d that feel, tae try yer luck

tae net a catch like her, looks like yer dashed

upon that rock

that wisna a carp, but a Siren, see


mon, dry aff

we’ll have a talk


be nice boy, a lesson learned’ll stand you well

in time

or know, that Siren’ll sound again

tae bring you back in line

times’ve changed fae yer faither’s day

boo hoo, you knew it true

long afore ye tried tae sail in search of treasured goods


greedy, like a pirate thief

ye tried tae steal soft hearts

wi force or calculated words, you stormed


who was hurt


you were too eager for the jewels and gold

and feigned that it was owed


She saw you there

Unfurled her wings

a Rapture tae behold


turns oot, yer Jolly Rodgers face,

it marks a fate most cursed

for there’s Sirens watching, how you sail

and there’s talons oan those birds


so, be nice boy, or

be ready

for that luring songbird’s sound

you simply won’t tell it apart and 

She’ll run ye

tae the ground


a vengeance kill,

for sisters lost

for mithers wronged in youth

for the girls they were, for the wans that’ll be

they’ll fight ye, nail and tooth


pose idly in wait for you, and the shark

that ye hink that ye are

She’ll strike as you dare bare yer teeth

swim fast,

ye won’t get far


so, be nice boy, as you were taught 

avoid these ragged stones

treat people wi respect, and live

tae see those same birds

guide ye home








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