Further archival witterings, again from long ago in 2004. This was said to come from a collection called The Vitamin B Pirate Gang & Other Maritime Doggerel by Gervase Beerpint, presumably some relation to your favourite poet and mine, Dennis Beerpint.

Chaps oozing charm wedged in a chest.
There’s no knowing who’ll come out best.
One is called Billy, head made of cork,
Shoulders cast iron, arms and legs chalk.
Mythology enwraps him like a shroud.
His voice is grating and horribly loud.
And then there is Cedric, aquatic, with fins.
He likes to muck about with a box of pins.
He has no ears but his feet are huge.
His entire head is covered in rouge.
Hummingbirds pain him, as do owls.
He’s always had trouble pronouncing vowels.
The third of our trio is Swivel-Eyed Dan.
His head is the shape of a frying pan.
He once went south, looking for bees,
But all his dreams blew away on a breeze.
You have to give credit where it’s due –
But not to Dan when he’s dribbling goo.
Three of them, then, wedged in a chest,
Each one wearing a red satin vest,
Oozing insouciance, polish, and charm.
Let us hope they come to no harm.
But the chest has been stowed in the hold of a ship
Whose captain is moody and curls his lip.
As they sail out from port, the captain growls:
“Damn the beakers! Damm the owls!
Damn the crackers! Damn the flaps!
Damn the chest of charming chaps!”
Two hours later, the ship just sank,
And all that remained was a single plank.
It floated for weeks and was then washed ashore.
I found it on the beach and used it for a door.
So when you come to my stinking hut,
Bringing some food for my stinking mutt,
Go careful by the door and remember your prayers:
“Get wedged in a chest, he who dares”.