The Last tourists

on the Orkney Islands

'The tourists will be coming,'

said Old Mother Attwell,

'they will be needing coffee,

sandwiches and postcards as well.'

'Janie,' she said, to her

orphaned niece, 'be a dear!

cycle down to the airfield and check

if the tourists are here!'

Janie cycled down to the field

on her rusty old bike

noting two more of farmer Brown’s

sheep, had died in the night

The airfield’s grass was long

the sky empty and grey.

She didn’t think any tourists

would be coming today

But Janie was a good girl and

she loved old Mother Attwell

so she cycled the long way home

to check out the harbor as well

And there by the breakers

lifting on the incoming swell

a tourist boat was coming in!

Oh Mother Attwell!

'So the tourists are coming!'

Nodded Mother Attwell,

'gather the coffee, the sandwiches

and bring the postcards as well!'

They rushed down to the harbour.

But my dear, what a sight

a ghost of a boat had

slipped in with the night

The name was half missing

the letters HMS… stood alone

and the crew of this wreck

they were nothing but bone!

They brought out the Geiger Counter

given to Mother Attwell at school,

it still worked! Things made back then

well, they generally did as a rule

Pointed at the boat, the hands spun

and the clicking went wild

Mother Attwell went white

and pulled back the child

With the longest of poles

at the turn of the tide

they pushed back the boat

for the ocean to hide

Gathering their sandwiches and

coffee, and their  postcards as well

Janie broke up their tourist stall

and run after, Old Mother Attwell

The child had never seen the

old lady, looking so frail

but it was twenty years she had

been waiting, for her tourists now

Janie held the old ladies hand

not knowing what to say?

'Shall I draw some more postcards?

The tourists will be here one day!'

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