It’s out of bed the Skipper said before the new sun rises,

For it’s the opening play on this Sunday and we want some glittering  prizes.

We’ll need any bumps as fair as Parton’s great pair

And our bottom as sleek as young Pippa’s.

“Now listen my son, too many boat scrubs  I‘ve done

And my back don’t take kindly to bending.” 

But his blood it is hot and his mind’s in a knot  

And his ear is quite uncomprehending.

It’s a right grubby chore that I loath and abhor;

But our boat when afloat needs light, lithe and lissom. 

Still  I’m left with the thought that all is for nought

If we don’t sail with wit and with wisdom.   

The wind it has blown and the pressure spray flown

And I’m wet from my ear to my ars   ankle.

But the job it is done and the cup all but won

It just needs a lift to the mantel

Now Sunday has dawned and a gale is forewarned

So it’s breakfast in wets and merino

Woops!  There’s the phone and the call is “Postpone!” 

Am I peeved or aggrieved? –no!- just really relieved so!