Among the sand there fell a tear,
It splashed upon a shell.
His tusk had cracked the final one,
It lingered with the smell--
He hadn't left but one to waste,
As far as he could tell.
"What breed of walrus does such things?"
He pondered as he cried.
"If only I had warned them,
or if I hadn't lied--
what oyster youth has earned such fate.
Digested! While Alive!"
The Carpenter rose to his feet,
And belched a mighty roar.
"Come on, my friend, let's wash up,
don't be a dismal sore--
we haven't got all night you know,
for dinner let's find more."
They walked among the wettest sand,
the imposition done.
The orb above them stood alone,
far off purple from the sun.
It kindly acquiesced by now,
Not to spoil the fun.
"Greetings my fair oysters,
won't you come along,
Yonder sits a treat for you,
We'll entertain with song--
My friend here says he knows the way,
this Walrus is seldom wrong."
This time dozens fell in line,
each dressed in fine attire.
Coats with tails impressed the snails,
a sight one would admire--
though lacking arms the poor ones
stuffed their tiny sleeves with wire.
And a mile up the beach,
the Oysters needed rest.
"No need to ask my friends,
we've made it to the crest--
our walrus carries all of you,
now climb upon his chest.
The Carpenter then pointed to
an island just of shore.
And with his wink the walrus knew,
He'd swim the oysters over--
The Walrus understood, he thought,
"His heart is also sore."
"How nice," the Walrus gave a sigh,
the charity did warm.
The Carpenter would spare these ones,
and for them would perform--
And on the island none would see...
none could give him scorn.
The Walrus did a backstroke,
and smiled broadly still.
And headed for the island,
brimming with goodwill.
Between his flippers, dozens sat.
He was careful not to spill.
With a "SNAP" down they went,
into the slimy dark.
And felt a tingling on their skin,
digestion pure and stark--
The oysters screamed in terror,
his last word was a "bark."
The Carpenter smiled broadly,
"A meal fit for a king!"
His killer whale was gracious,
And asked if he would sing.
"Coo coo! oh I lose the words.
What next shall I bring?"
It splashed upon a shell.
His tusk had cracked the final one,
It lingered with the smell--
He hadn't left but one to waste,
As far as he could tell.
"What breed of walrus does such things?"
He pondered as he cried.
"If only I had warned them,
or if I hadn't lied--
what oyster youth has earned such fate.
Digested! While Alive!"
The Carpenter rose to his feet,
And belched a mighty roar.
"Come on, my friend, let's wash up,
don't be a dismal sore--
we haven't got all night you know,
for dinner let's find more."
They walked among the wettest sand,
the imposition done.
The orb above them stood alone,
far off purple from the sun.
It kindly acquiesced by now,
Not to spoil the fun.
"Greetings my fair oysters,
won't you come along,
Yonder sits a treat for you,
We'll entertain with song--
My friend here says he knows the way,
this Walrus is seldom wrong."
This time dozens fell in line,
each dressed in fine attire.
Coats with tails impressed the snails,
a sight one would admire--
though lacking arms the poor ones
stuffed their tiny sleeves with wire.
And a mile up the beach,
the Oysters needed rest.
"No need to ask my friends,
we've made it to the crest--
our walrus carries all of you,
now climb upon his chest.
The Carpenter then pointed to
an island just of shore.
And with his wink the walrus knew,
He'd swim the oysters over--
The Walrus understood, he thought,
"His heart is also sore."
"How nice," the Walrus gave a sigh,
the charity did warm.
The Carpenter would spare these ones,
and for them would perform--
And on the island none would see...
none could give him scorn.
The Walrus did a backstroke,
and smiled broadly still.
And headed for the island,
brimming with goodwill.
Between his flippers, dozens sat.
He was careful not to spill.
With a "SNAP" down they went,
into the slimy dark.
And felt a tingling on their skin,
digestion pure and stark--
The oysters screamed in terror,
his last word was a "bark."
The Carpenter smiled broadly,
"A meal fit for a king!"
His killer whale was gracious,
And asked if he would sing.
"Coo coo! oh I lose the words.
What next shall I bring?"
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