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danger in the wet
Author unknown

Some people in North Queensland (Australia) love having tourists visit them so much, that they tell them this tale...

This poem is reproduced here with the kind permission of funnypoets.com

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danger in the wet

In the far, far north of Queensland,
Where the cane and stubbies grow,
I met this bloke called Harry,
In a pub at Bungalow.

I asked him as a tourist,
As the place seemed pretty mild,
Are the animals and reptiles,
In the tropics really wild?

He fixed me with a steamy look
"You're new here aren't you mate?
I'll tell you something no-one knows,
If you've got time to wait!

We got taipans and flying fox,
And giant toads that leap,
But there's one you'll never hear about,
And it makes me hair all creep.

His eyes looked furtive 'round the bar
He stopped breathing for a while,
Then he spoke these words real scary,
There's this giant crocodile.

He's the biggest croc in all the world,
Two hundred foot they say,
His teeth are nearly three feet long,
And he lives up Weipa way.

Most of the time he's pretty quiet,
In the river lying low,
But he seems to get real stirred up,
In the Wet when cyclones blow.

In the summer when it's pourin' down,
And the winds a howlin' wail,
He crashes down from up the Cape,
To Cairns and Innisfail.

He rips up trees with giant claws
As he races through the rain,
He swings his tail real vicious,
And flattens all the cane.

You can hear the sound of thunder
As he snaps his giant jaws,
And no-one's ever seen him -
They're not game to come outdoors.

Is he a maneater? Is he?
I can hear you askin' me,
Well, he eats 'em by the hundred,
But it's strange as strange can be.

Have you noticed mobs of tourists
In the middle of the year,
But when the cyclone season comes,
They all but disappear.

Well this croc is who's responsible
For the numbers gettin' thin
He's a taste for southern tourists
And their pale and off white skin.

He likes safari buses
Full of ladies and their gents,
In the dead of night he chomps 'em
As they sleep in little tents.

This crocodile's a brainy bloke
He don't fancy locals much,
He only feeds on tourists,
For they're a real soft touch.

This story Harry told me
It filled me with fear,
I left the bar as Harry said
These words, I still can hear.

Just tell your mates be careful
If they dare to venture forth,
Beware the rainy season,
And the reptile of the north!

Your turn

Write a story or poem about travelling or tourism. Send us your texts.

Your texts

Travelling poem

The sky is blue,
The sun is shining,
Lots of trees on the mountains,
The air smells of pine,
The grass is green,
There is no pain,
I can breathe deeply,
Not far, I can see a cairn,
I walk to it,
And I can read on it,
Eric Ramirez Rodriguez 1973 - 2007,
Soon I understand,
I am making a journey with no return.

Eric Ramirez Rodriguez

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