|Honeycomb Moray with Cleaner Shrimp|
When you're diving at night, and your feet feel the bite,
that's a moray
When your hand's in the cave, suddenly you'll need save,
that's a moray.
I hope Captain Butterfly doesn't see it, as it will bring back some painful memories of when he was bitten by a moray when diving. Not only couldn't he dive anymore that trip, but he was on antibiotics, so couldn't drink either!
It reminded me of hearing the song "That's Amore". Dean Martin wasn't it? Loved it. And was it late Fifties, early Sixties? Can't remember now, but it is from the Pre-Pizza era up North, as I heard it as; "When the moon hits the sky like a big piece of pie, that's amore"
Whereas it is of course "like a big pizza pie". But I had never heard of pizza back then. Maybe there were some sophisticates who had, but I was not among them.
It also reminded me that I wrote a poem - well more of a verse really - about a moray eel ages ago. It was before Captain Butterfly hatched out in the butterfly version. He was an underwater photographer back then, and we were expats in the Middle East. The verse was, if I remember, about a photo of his hand stroking a fearsome looking moray eel that was looming above me as I typed. And it must have been a long time ago if we had a typewriter! We must still have the picture somewhere, but now, in our flat, we have run out of wall space.
The Moray and the Hand (by me)
A distracting hand
in front of the typewriter
Is stroking a moray eel
Large mouth and teeth
Look at me
It’s as if the hand is urging
“There she is. Go get her, boy!
A hundred codfish for your fee.”
Is it your pale hand,
O Sheik of Araby?
I managed to get out on the work Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday - only for an hour at a time though, as my back hurts badly after an hour. There are still loads of people I haven't managed to find at home again. Carol and I had a lovely time yesterday, even though we got confused and called on a Do Not Call. But we got a warm welcome and can return!