POACHERS

The moon was climbing in the sky,

The night was mild and clear.

The boys sitting at the counter

Were finishing off their beer.

At eleven o'clock they left the bar,

A six pack in each hand;

They hit for Cave and Devaney'Quay

On their way out to the strand.

Silently they launched the boat

And rowed to the fishing ground.

Bar creaking wood and dashing wave

You would not hear a sound.

They anchored outside outside Blackweir

And there began to scope;

The man astern took in the fish

While his partner hauled the rope.

They saw the flickering lights put out

In the Cottages by the shore

They saw the Marafin sparkling

As they toiled for more and more.

'Till the tide began to flow.

Then they lifted up their anchor

And straight for port did row.

Cautiously they moored the boat,

Afraid that they might be seen

By the sly old cunning bailiff

Who was so very keen.

If they were found and convicted

Many pounds would be the cost.

Hence all the work that they put in

At Court would would be sadly lost.

They reached their homes unnoticed

and delightfully did retire.

Next day they'd sell their merchandise

To a local oyster buyer.

The cash received would not last long

For they'll spend it with delight,

And when the cash flow ceases

They'll just poach for another night.  

  by PAT JORDAN(C)
 Cave Resident