Crabbin

Crabbin

 

We never saw them catch nor

Boil alive them harbour crabs

They serve round here

With salad and a lemon slice

But boy you could hear em

Sing n squeal in the copper pan

Back in the yard, back in the day

 

Saw loads on em n lobster too

All harvested in they old rope pots

And one or two were even handlined

In by soft city kids on school day trips

Then sold on, from harbour wall

For maybe a few bob perhaps

 

The missus, she had moule to start

That’s what the French call mussels

Dont’cha know, then cod n chips

All washed down with a mug of tea

Ya can beat an egg, but ya just can’t

Beat a good cuppa these days she say’s

 

While Brulee, that’s the pup I mean

Not some posh pie knocked back her

Marshfield Farm Doggie pud before I

Even started mine

Whelks, I had I must be slowin down

Or getting old, maybe both, I smiled

 

Seabreeze n Salty Nutz both fishin

Boats bobbed a gentle swaying dance

Upon the harbour swell, near naked

Minus mast n sail they were

Ah’ yes, the sight, n smells and taste of it

 

Did make I smile again, just knowin

All was well and we could all be back

Next week n do it all again ........

 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a delight for my afternoon...this read took me there...i heard the cracklin', the hissing of the lobsters as they fought in the pots to stay alive...
seems so brutal, but my they tasted so good fresh...
I remember having seafood in Boston...including sashimi...directly in from the Atlantic ....so fresh and vibrant...a tasty poem here...so yes, let's do it all again next week. I'm in.

[Neville]

that's a date then.. thank you jacob, you just made my day

[barleygirl]

Many times your poems are brief, leaving us salivating for more, & that why I especially love this one becuz you're piling on the details & telling a story that's unforgettable! Love this storytelling in verse & love your unique way of presenting a familiar scene (((KRAKS))) Fondly, Margie

[Neville]

This old geezer is extremely grateful to you Margie (NIPS) Truly, Neville :)

[Chris Shaw]

You gave me a flavour of Brixham Harbour here. I was feasting, looking at the bobbing boats on the incoming tide. Kids were still out crabbing and the lobster pots empty on the Quay. You took me on holiday you did. In fact you and your missus I swear were sitting at the next table to us. I love a crab or lobster salad, but I don:t wanna hear any squealing, that would put me right off. Southern softie, getting worse by the day. Loved this poem Neville. Got carried away in the ambience.

Chris

[Neville]

You and me both our Chris.. there's nothing quite like a freshly dressed crab .. I much prefer it to lobster even .. the squealing can be a turn off but I find wandering past the yard with Led Zep belting through me ear phones helps..

Neville :)

[Papaya]

I used to travel to Halifax a fair bit with one of my old jobs. They sell lobster in the airport there. Pack in a cardboard box on ice for you to take with you, tucked under your seat as carry on. And as your end lines suggest, I always looked forward to knowing to knowing I could go back and do it all again. Not so nowadays though. But I've got lovely memories of those lobster suppers I used to host with friends or family upon my return.

[Neville]

where would we be without memories and poetry eh'
All Good Things,

Neville

[Papaya]

All good things... :)