Pepper-Mouth Polly

Pepper-Mouth Polly

Polly was a sailor’s gal
And loved to chatter loud.
Her coloured conversations
Always drew a humoured crowd.

People called her “pepper mouth”
For swearing was her fame.
In fair-to-fine or tempest mood
Her words all stunk the same.

For every other thing she said
You would have blocked your ears
If you were of the proper kind
Who learnt to speak with care.

But shipmates loved to hear her talk,
And whispered near her cage
Every kind of foul-mouthed filth
From which she tore a page.

She would curse as no one could
For that was all she knew,
Until a kindly gentleman
Joined the seaman crew.

When pepper-mouth would bleep and blip
He’d pipe up, “That’s not right.
Your vocab’s far too finite
For a creature that’s so bright!”

On evenings while the sailors boozed
He’d sit right near her cage,
And read her lofty Shakespeare verse -
Poems, prose and plays.

He spoke to her of lovely things.
She cawing would rehearse,
‘Til to the shock of everyone
Pol simply would not curse.

She gave her owner quite a speech
That left him stunned and shamed,
Scolding him for ruining
Her nature and her name.

Her oratory so moved the man
He knew not what to say.
Four-letter sprees a no-no
He now deemed outright profane.

Now every day he plants himself
Right next to Polly’s cage.
She schools him in the art of speech;
His Polly Parrot sage!

©NnekaEdwards2008