“I want to go out swimming Dad!”
“Okay son, but please be aware
That things could turn out rather bad;
You know the ocean’s the shark’s lair,
So if you’re eaten by a shark
Expect no sympathy from me,
Don’t blame the monster for your lark,
The sea is his domain you see.”
“But Dad you know I like to swim,
And if the nasty shark eats me
My future will be rather grim,
And those who swim in yonder sea,
If they are just thought of as bait,
Just to be eaten by a shark,
Perhaps a white one – rather great,
Then swimming’s future’s rather dark.
And what about the divers Dad?
The ones who dive for fun or fish.”
“They should avoid the water lad,
Should they be eaten that’s their wish.”
“The surfers who ride on the waves,
Dad, are they just a type of lure?”
“Shark’s bellies son, may be their graves,
And Terra Firma more secure.
But listen son, I’ve had enough,
Put on your swimmers, hit the surf!
Although I know it’s rather tough,
Remember you’re on sharkie’s turf.
He’s looking for a tender meal;
Just keep eyes peeled for dorsal fins;
He may think you’re a baby seal,
So watch out for those toothy grins.”
“Ah… Dad, I think I’ve had enough,
I’ve kind of gone off swimming now.
The sea is looking rather rough,
I wonder would you, Dad, allow
Me to go walking in the scrub?”
“Sure son, but listen to my words:
I’ll let you go but here’s the rub –
The dingoes, crocodiles and birds,
The spiders and the snakes that bite,
The flies that buzz, the wasps that sting,
Those of the ground and those of flight,
The bull ants, leaches – everything,
You cannot touch, you cannot hurt,
Despite that they may cause you pain.
Their sacredness I must assert,
For like the shark….. it’s their domain!”