Vespers
by Adrienne
The Executive kneels at the foot of his bed,
Closes his eyes and lowers his head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Morton is saying his prayers.
God Bless Crane. He's feeling woozy.
Too much heat in his new Jacuzzi?
Playing hunt the sub is a wonderful game,
And wasn't he clean when bedtime came!
The pants that I'm kneeling in split in the crotch,
And everything spilled out during my watch.
Of being the best, I've given up hope,
Now that the crew's seen my down periscope!
The pajamas I'm wearing look rather fab,
'Cos Nelson, my Admiral, was locked in his lab,
Running me up some sequined new numbers.
God Bless Harry while he slumbers.
Although he sews well, he's a red blooded male,
As is his cabinmate, Officer Hale.
They've hit it off so well together,
Since Hale won the title: Mr. NIMR Leather.
Oh! God Bless Doc for all he's done,
For Nelson, Ski and Patterson.
And thanks for his advice that we always keep,
That we'll feel better after a good nights sleep.