Davy McCrae

This poem was first published in "The Gryphon's Grimoire" in the March, 2000 issue of Fantasy, Folklore & Fairytales. It is protected by copyright.

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Davy McCrae

Old Davy McCrae and his highland crew,
There ain't much at sea they ain't been through.
They've seen it all, more'n you or I,
And nary a scratch, and that's no lie.

The serpent, it came with coils all green
And scales that stunk with a slimy sheen.
Its jaws could swallow a sailor whole,
And many mistook it for a rocky shoal.

But Davy laughed when he saw its teeth
And drew his blade from its leather sheath.
With naught but a dirk and a sailor's coat
He leapt right down the creature's throat!

From there within its putrid gut
Old Davy used his knife to cut
A gash the length of a mizzen mast,
Then jumped back out and sailed on past.

That crew was also once beset
By a Siren's song that wouldn't let
A sailor leave once he was caught
No matter how he bravely fought.

But Davy was a thinkin' man
And when he heard that voice, he ran
To fetch some cloth to plug his ears,
Then faked a trance and joined his peers.

The siren called them to her home,
And all his crew sunk 'neath the foam;
But when old Davy reached her arm
He slit her throat and broke the charm.

Many were the dangers faced
Upon the waves their ship has graced.
The sea, it tried, but couldn't hold
Davy McCrae and his crew so bold.