IPSWICH CLAMS

When you turn your thoughts, to pleasure

And you're "headed" down to Maine

And you're speeding down the turnpike

Health and rest to just regain

And you come to town of Ipswich

Put on brakes and come to stop

For you've found a place of beauty

Next to Heav'n that's the spot

On your way you've dined and eaten

On "Best Foods" of Uncle Sam

In the good old town of Ipswich

You will find "The Clam that Am".

You can "eat em" fried or chowdered

You can try a clam cake sweet

But no matter how you "eat em"

They're the Nation's "Finest Treat".

You can walk the beach at Ipswich

You can almost see them grow

Where the tides of ocean waters

Wash them clean on ebb and flow

In the sands of Ipswich beaches

Clean and clear, of silver hue

Mother Nature plants her harvest

Of fine clams for me and you.

And their flavor's so delicious

Touched with tang of ocean blue

And their taste is so exquisite

That it just appeals to you.

You have wined and dined at banquet

Read down "menus" most all "sham"

But you've tasted Nature's "Salt of Earth"

When you taste an Ipswich Clam.

Just say "Ipswich", that's the shellfish

That is trade-marked "One Grand Slam"

For a clam without an equal

Ipswich clams are "Clams that Am".

Written and recited by Bernard J. Sheridan at the Banquet of the Ipswich

Sportsmen's Club at Ipswich Thursday, April 14, 1938.

Poems