Sea-eggs

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Sea Eggs

(Third Person Persona Limited)

Sea-eggs, sea-eggs, folks at the door,

So fresh from broken shell;

Mobile hawkers are shouting out;

From Oistin town they sell.

On turtle-grass and H20,

Moana lays her eggs;

In star-like cases white as snow;

They stand on pointed legs.

Urchins’ tests range the coral reefs;

Zero tests come ashore,

Flattened and brown with plenty lines;

They write their tests no more.

Sea-eggs, sea-eggs, folks at the door,

So fresh from broken shell;

Mobile hawkers are shouting out;

From Oistin town they sell.

The fishing moon when it appears;

White sea-eggs are real ripe;

So divers raid Moana’s bed;

Eight months they ‘R’ on strike;

They crate the eggs in grape leaf cones;

Tied neatly bound with string;

The empty shells they hide in sand;

Their roes no longer cling.

Sea-eggs, sea-eggs, folks at the door,

So fresh from broken shell;

Mobile hawkers are shouting out;

From Oistin town they sell.

Moana’s bed is slow to spring,

So kina dies from stress;

Poha is sweet that dish on plate;

But eggs need nests to rest.

All these eggs now folks must protect

From poachers’ greedy hold;

They fry the eggs in scrambled sand;

Call in the beach patrol.

Sea-eggs, sea-eggs, folks at the door,

So fresh from broken shell;

Mobile hawkers are shouting out;

From Oistin town they sell.

© Paterika Hengreaves