The All-knowing

— Are you dead yet, Captain Cardew,
or should I call the doctor back?
— I’m dead already, Bessie,
too late for that old quack.

— Boo-hoo, Captain Cardew,
that’s a sad tale to bear.
Now was it oak you wanted
or maybe plainer fare?

— Just wrap me in my oilskins
and drop me in the sea,
the great Eternal Mother,
like the one who cradled me.

— Boo-hoo-hoo, Captain Cardew,
now you’ve really got me going,
with your fine poetic image
of the sea as the All-knowing.

— It’s a powerful image, Bessie,
that just popped into my head.
You too can spout fine wisdom
when you’re dead.


 

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