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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required THE FISH WIVES TALE Early morn' the clicking of clogs on the cobbled streets The fish baskets collecting, on these cold harbour walls It is here the fish wives gather for their morning greets These fish; fresh as can be, from the fishermen’s hauls The fish baskets collecting, on these cold harbour walls To be gutted; and, beheaded, by fully skilled fish wives These fish; fresh as can be, from the fishermen’s hauls Laddie; sitting with his wheel, to sharpen up the knives To be gutted; and, beheaded, by fully skilled fish wives Gossiping their ails and, complaining of their own strife Laddie; sitting with his wheel, to sharpen up the knives Whose sharpen tongues be as sharp as their own knife Gossiping their ails; and, complaining of their own strife While others sing songs; as if to cover up their whining Whose sharpen tongues be as sharp as their own knife To declaring their recipes; as to add zest to their dining While others; sing songs, as if to cover up their whining The girls collecting the heads, to be put into fish broths To declaring their recipes; as to add zest, to their dining For some best of fish to as be hidden under apron cloth The girls collecting the heads; to be put into fish broths As hungry seagulls scavenging; to get something to eat For some best of fish to as be hidden under apron cloth With dogs and children, as fighting at the fish wives feet As hungry seagulls scavenging; to get something to eat It is here the fish wives gather; for their morning greets With dogs and children, as fighting at the fish wives feet Early morn'; the clicking of clogs, on the cobbles streets Indiana Shaw . . . -_-
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