Three Little Whelks from Poole

Three little whelks from Poole are we,
Filled to the gills with whelk-like glee,
Univalve all, as you'll agree,
Three little whelks from Poole!

Every part of our shells is grey,
That's of nought in the mud anyway,
Here on the estuary floor we'll stay,
Three little whelks from Poole!

Three little whelks all quite unwary,
Live on the bed of an estuary,
Under the keel of the harbour ferry,
Three little whelks from Poole!
Three little whelks from Poole!

One little whelk is enticed by a crumb,
Caught on a hook from a boat, come, come, [*]
Served in a chowder, yum-yum-yum!
Two little whelks from Poole!
Two little whelks from Poole!

Two little whelks having reached their coda,
All of the genus Gastropoda,
Slightly possessed of a fishy odour,
Two little whelks from Poole!
Two little whelks from Poole!


[*] Poetic License #443980