There’s a little mermaid in my bath
I know she’s there, I heard her laugh.
Making bubbles with the soap,
And splashing as she does back stroke.
I hope she knows to clean her toes
Behind her ears, below her nose.
And though I haven’t got a tail,
I gather it could smell quite stale,
Like Poppa’s feet or old sardines
Unless she gave it quite a clean.
Though she isn’t making trouble
I’m more than just a little puzzled.
Did she climb up through the drain?
And does she plan to come again?
Then with a flicker and a glug
She disappears back down the plug.
A glistening, scaly tailed delight,
I hope she’s back tomorrow night.