Tropical Gig
A cricket and a katydid in need of some excitement
when the cold winds started, and with no other incitement,
set out on upon a sea journey, their ship an old guitar.
(It wasn’t very roomy. Oh, but it was yar!)
They christened her as Lulabelle after an old amor.
They thought they’d sail the whole wide world from shore to shore to shore.
Setting off from Mexico, they drifted with the breeze,
their water and provisions stacked up around their knees.
The cricket sang such lullabies. The katydid chimed in,
a catfish as a tagalong stroked rhythms on its fin.
Guileless in their motives, they sought no fame nor riches.
From port to port they drifted, with only minor glitches.
On Isla Mujeres, they met a small land crab
that had been used in research in an oceanic lab.
It lit up in the darkness with a thousand little lights.
And so they offered it a ride to light up starless nights.
They drifted off to Cuba atop an ocean swell,
telling all the stories that they had to tell.
Traitorous loves and conquests, flight through the summer night.
The sand crab told of capture after a valiant fight.
The cricket had such stories of houses he’d been in.
The katydid could mime a leaf: long and green and thin.
When they made their music, the crab just clacked its claws.
All night they chirred and clattered—sometimes without a pause.
By the time they got to Cuba, they had a stirring act.
They drew the gulls and pelicans to listen—it’s a fact!
They got a gig in Havana, playing in a bar,
drawing folks to hear them from both near and far.
The cricket’s name is Chirrup and and Katydid is Slim.
The Crab’s name is Oblongus—based on the shape of him.
Their act can be heard nightly in the ocean dunes,
where they will serenade you with their blended tunes.
Prompt words for today are guitar, guileless, traitor, research and excitement.
