Seahorses

                                

Mildred MacAdam was a madam

Who spent her time away

From ordeals with potato peels

Spending her time another way

 

From a source, I heard she rode a seahorse

Which pranced by the light of the moon

Over tropical seas, they mounted a breeze

Which took them surfing on a silvery spoon

 

Her high heel shoes and a shot of booze

Were added to help both on their way

Dancing through nights, at tropical sites

Doing the Salty Seahorse Sashay

 

This exotic dance left all in a trance

For which they were glad to pay

And were it not for an unfortunate blot

They’d both be dancing there today

 

But after getting snagged, on the float of a boat  

Both were buried in batter, becoming meal of the day

To improve the batter, all was covered with butter

Then they’d be served on a silver tray

 

If you see this madam on her seahorse

Being served in just this way

Put on your exotic, high heel shoes

And dance with them round that tray

 

Reviews

[Stu. T.H.]

Intriguing read, and though I don't have much thought of it, I feel at least a bit empathetic towards the fate of the seahorse and the lass. Perhaps the poem was parallelism to the dying miracles in the world, and how social norms kill off imagination and how humans hunt down exotic wares and animals for vainglory. Thanks for the read, author Dave Brown, have a nice day.
- Leon

[Dave Brown]

I'm not sure this write has any significant intent other than to manipulate words, sentences and ideas into a reasonably readable arrangement.
Altho', please let me say that I fully support, what I interpret as your apparent distain for those who would kill animals just for their own chest thumping pleasure.
Thank you for taking the time to offer a comment and please pass my best wishes on to both of your two associates

[Stu. T.H.]

And to you too, author Dave Brown, thank you for your wishes.