THE JIMMY-T

    
She hasn't the power of the Hawk named Kitty,
          The oilers outrun her and she's not very pretty,
          She's never been called a ruler of the sea,
          But she's all we've got, she's the Jimmy-T

          Her engines drink oil with unquenchable thirst,
          She's got sick generators which have to be nursed,
          Her paint is as thick as the bark on a tree.
          But she's all we've got, she's the Jimmy-T

          We curse and we cuss and we rant and we rave,
          About chow, or pay, or how we all slave,
          We'll work it all off on the beach with a spree,
          Then stagger back home to the ole Jimmy-T.

                           Author Unknown

        Thanks to Bob Harper(68-69) for the above poem..