Life of a Blue Footed Booby

Dancin' the Booby Stomp

Oh, if I were a Blue Footed Booby,
I’d strut my stuff and sing a song,
I’d stretch my neck and stomp the deck,
I’d whistle all day long.

Oh, if I were a Blue Footed Booby,
I’d live my life at sea,
I’d fly away to an island cay,
I’d find one Blue Footed Booby for me.

Oh, if I were a Blue Footed Booby
I’d dive into the blue ocean foam,
I’d catch fish served as a Booby dish,
I’d take them to my chicks at home.

Oh, if I were a Blue Footed Booby,
I’d stay away from the ships of man,
I’d do my best to avoid that pest,
I’d stay out of the cook’s frying pan.

©2010, Donald Harbour

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16 thoughts on “Life of a Blue Footed Booby

  1. Very cool indeed, Donald. I wonder if they’re good eating. I bet they are, but hard to come by, eh? Blue feet on the black market only.

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  2. Oh, if I were a Blue Footed Booby,
    I’d be a female of your kind,
    I’d fly to your nest, do my best,
    I’d laugh at the quirks of your mind.

    Sorry Donald, had to do that. Took one look at the photo, then read your first two lines and started laughing right on through to the last line. Thank you so much for this one. I feel so much better now.

    Elizabeth

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  3. I enjoyed this song, Donald! (For surely its rhythm, rhyme, and repetition are well fitted to singing…) Verging ever gently on an Alice in Wonderland feel. Great fun AND educational!

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  4. I sent these two poems to my grandson (8) (hope you don’t mind) and he loved them. He is attempting to compose a song for the booby, but don’t hold your breath – Mozart he isn’t (yet).

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