Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.
A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.
My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.
He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”
He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”
While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”
As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on. My hands were steady.
Yellow with black dots and a weed guard.
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.
As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.
So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes.
About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”
When the Bass broke water, it scared me.
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook! Set the hook!”
When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.
My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.
“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez. Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed,
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”
He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready. This is the part that’s great.
I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”
Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.
My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”
“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”
“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…
but for the great stories we get.”
I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.
You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.
They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
There once was a buff metal coil
whose gal was aluminum foil.
She was his sunshine.
He sprang for the wine,
all's swell 'till they run out of oil.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015
The Roses are Red
The Violets are Blue
The sunshine has got in me
And the Devil has, too.
The Sunshine’s hit Dragon
Oh what will we do?
He poo’d on my Roses
Oh I know what I’ll Do!
So I Gave him a bath
Most wonderous thing!
He’ll be stuck in the tub…
Come Hell or next Spring!
I know, I know
But The Devil won’t let go!
So I’ll Run to McDonald’s
For them lucky guys
These to bestow!
There once was a guy named Elliot
Who’s funny bone hasn’t broken yet-iot
But never fear… Grandpa Troll is here
Laughing and rolling on the floor like an id-iot
I know… I know… Don’t cry… at it!
Dragon’s the one who wrote-iot
Hey Dragon… I was THE ONE who started writing it… I say!
Well Yes… it WAS funnier that way
Well, OK! YOU WIN… I said with a grin…
Your such a silly Dragon-iot… I said with shagrin
Think he’ll get that one… in the end?
Well, Maybe just incase, I’d better start running… I say
My friends… won’t tell Dragon so it’ll be OK
Well…Maybe?… Naw… No Way!
And No…Dragon! I Did NOT get Carried AWAY!
Naw… No Way!
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015
There once was a girl named Bo
Her dad did not like her beau
So one day they eloped
But Bo’s dad dashed their hope
He sprang from behind with bolo.
*bolo - noun, a large, heavy, single-edged knife or machete for hacking, used in the Philippines and by the U.S. Army
CONTEST : SPRING FORWARD - 10th Place
SPONSOR : DEBBIE GUZZI
05 March 2015
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015
What a silly nincompoop, hands free phony
Driving over everything in his pathway
His eyes fully occupied by the cute girl
Sapphic Stanza number Three contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
There once was a gent named Springtime Ned
Who on that March morning sprang from his bed
In amazement and shock
He forgot to set his clock
Now with his boss on thin water he'll tread
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2015
Oh No! Oh No! What has my son done? I hope it’s, not already to late!
He lives at a fraternity house, and surely, you know THAT intense mental state.
March has St. Patrick’s Day, Spring Break, and has, of course, Easter in it, too.
So they decided to have some great fun, yes, a fun filled month to happily ensue.
They invited a Leprechaun, the Easter Bunny, and the king of bongos, a gnome.
Apparently they convinced everyone it’d be more fun, to Simply… Stay… Home.
The whole campus flooded thru that fraternity house, in the party’s that ensued.
And they convinced the Easter Bunny to do jello shots in every color and hue.
He became known as THE BUN, yes, The One who finally, truly could fly…
And the Leprechaun danced till he dropped… to a great bongo serenade, aye.
There was no SIMPLY about this! As the music rocked the frat house, next door.
And girls were seen coming and going, at all hours, even passed out on the floor.
This was the party no one missed… even the frat house with the snobs, were there.
It’s said even some of the President’s security attended, partying there, somewhere.
Before they were done, a plan was sown, as the gnome found it’s yearly, new home.
Yes, it got there, in Washington somehow, on the top of the Real ‘White House’ Dome.
But along the way THE BUN was lost… some where along the never-ending roads.
The Leprechaun called me, our Dragons and Trolls, to help, to search the highroads.
The poor little guy was so pie eyed, when we found him along that crazy way, so…
We fixed him up, we didn’t give up, until we could send him, into that Easter Frey.
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013
Spring and the great reveal!
Winter is now in full retreat,
those darkest days of rain and sleet,
the clouds will part, as if cut by knife,
the sun warms the earth to beckon life
I throw back the curtains in every room,
to let in the rays and light the gloom,
but then as I blink and my eyes adjust,
I recoil with horror at all that dust!
Spring cleaning is a chore I hate,
but it must be done now, it can't be late,
I mop and dust and polish with wax,
I can't sit in the sun, no time to relax
Now to the kitchen, where I cater,
to remove the dust from the radiator,
down the side of the oven, a treasure trove,
a forgotten chip and a garlic clove
Every room is brought up to muster,
thanks to me and my big yellow duster,
my muscles ache, my energy's sapped,
my face is aglow, my hands are chapped
I think I've finished, but no, wait,
I glance outside beyond the garden gate,
a rusty barbecue, and a lawn full of weeds,
a fence that needs painting, and sprouting seeds
Forgive me if I don't welcome this season,
the work it brings is beyond all reason,
I prefer the winter, the storms and the ice,
curled up with a film and some chocolate that's nice!
Cheryl Darby 2015
Copyright © Cheryl Darby | Year Posted 2015
The First Day of Spring
And snowflakes in the air
The birds do not sing
They think it so unfair
Walking seemed so nice
My dog is at my side
We hit a patch of ice
And fell on our backsides
The trees are all a'budding
The tulips pushing up
The snow is still a'coming
Had nature had enough?
The First Day of Spring
And snowflakes in the air
The birds do not sing
They think it so unfair
©Rick Zablocki 2013
Copyright © Rick Zablocki | Year Posted 2013
Country living in New Hampshire was like heaven on earth.
It was Nature in her glory with the spring’s rebirth.
We owned a big pond and had the wildlife come around…
It was beautiful tranquility that left us spellbound.
It’s city living for me now in Georgia, and a whole other thing.
But Georgia has all kinds of creatures the country can bring.
I’ve gone out with a guy that owns a 15 acre pond,
With snakes and alligators too scary for this blonde.
He and his neighbors get alligators all the time,
And sometimes they kill them for dinnertime!
I don’t know if country life here would be that great,
If I wasn’t careful I would end up as gator bait!
Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016
Miss Spring arrived quite early today...
She brought with her some rain..Hooray...
Her job description is to assure...
That the garden will endure...
All the habitants needed...
And even the seeded....
Her first assignment of her duties..
Will be to match up all the cuties..
Like Azaleas , Iris, Pansies and more...
a Rose with a Rose...and even more...
A home for everything, even Anthills...
Right next to the bright yellow Daffodils...
However even the flowers have rebels who seek,
Pleasures that are.. that of the weak...
And sometimes it is beyond Miss Springs grasp..
That “ new” faces show up...with no names..Alas !
You hear them in whispers..when the wind blows threw the grass...
They are the “ love childs” produced by the rebels you see...
they are called “ Wildflowers “ and picked by both you and me...
But, it’s not here where the story ends...
Cause even Miss Spring has a “ seedy “ side my friends...
And as the months pass...she too changes..
Sometimes even exchanges..
And sells herself out..what a bummer..
She gets “ hotter “ and changes her name...to Summer
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013
Sometimes I can’t tell the difference between what’s humorous and what’s not. It’s like trying to understand how daylight savings time impacts your sleep when you work in your yard or when you’re a cop walking a daytime beat on the street or when you’re old and retired and don’t have to set the alarm on your clock. When it gets warm and the grass starts to grow you spring forward an hour and when it starts to get cold and the leaves fall from the trees you fall backwards an hour.
I think if the ancient gods and goddesses knew about what we 21st century humans do with our clocks they’d laugh really hard at how we try to manipulate the truth about time with our electronic clocks. Then again maybe they’d get angry at our daylight saving time antics and decide to dim the light of the sun, or hide the moon from our eyes, or make all the white clouds disappear from the sky because they might also struggle like me with knowing the difference between what’s humorous and what’s not.
Copyright © Howard Dion | Year Posted 2016
The first game of spring
It was the first game of the year.
The go lumpducks vs the hot rugcats.
On 1st base for the hot rugcats is: Tiny judy mad cat
On 2nd is Flash betty furball
At short stop is licky slip maybell
On 3rd three leg piggy polecat
Rt field Cassy cool cat
Cfield Tiffy Mudcat
Lt field Vicky short pants Field cat.
Pitching Wild arm Jayne legcat
Catching Junkcat Kitty
The game is cancel due to Rats on the field the team is hard to control
A real mess the lumpducks left after the first rat was tore apart.
But that's your line up for tomorrows game.
Copyright © Harold Hunt sr | Year Posted 2016
SPRING IN AIR, LOVE ONLINE 20/02/13
Nowadays , life is so unpalatable and stoic.
So unnecessarily busy and eventfully hectic.
Young folks thus gather in a shadowy discotheque, to kill,
The retreating winter shedding its last chill.
The chirps of the departing migratory,
With massacred green in a concrete urban factory,
Welcomes the spring breeze, and the cuckoo melody tune,
That too so rare,
For a short term vacation, in a vanity fair.
Some emotional fools and roaming vagabond,
Can feel the spring air and reminiscences their fond,
And cry for the past and the long lost love bonds.
Beside them no one dares to mingle,
Their soul with the colour of butterfly twinkle.
No one cares to see the young green boughs,
Dancing in a frolic of crispy air that jingle.
All is there, in the air, except love my dear,
‘Cause love is now confined,
In another little world so secure.
Where there’s no hasty rushing,
No meaningless blushing,
No hassled waiting, no worrying restriction.
Love is just a ready-made parcel,
At a press of a small button.
Love messages, e mails , tweets, face books ,web cyberspace and profile update,
Takes all the bothering responsibility, does all the necessary tete-a-tete.
No need for time taking arguments,
No need for extra commitments.
Sometimes, meetings could be arranged, but
Oh! Never in public park or in a hopeless garden.
It could be in a shopping mall or a cool coffee den.
The gorgeous and the grotty,
All gather at a V-day party.
Those who are privileged,
Share their love with diamonds and wine.
But for others, not a single grape,
Is sour in a vine.
Everything is taken for granted,
Just simple and fine.
‘Cause love can also be shared,
Simply free of cost on line.
Copyright © sangeeta saha | Year Posted 2013
I'm lookin' forward to the arrival of spring with great anticipation,
With the bloomin' of purty flowers and much needed precipitation!
All winter long I've supported the local squirrel and avian population!
Word seems to have gotten 'round that there's free grub at my location!
They're eatin' me outta house and home causin' me some serious privation!
Hopefully, with arrival of spring them fellers will consider migration,
Seekin' other climes for their foragin' causin' me much less aggravation!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2013
Spring keeps trying to get in
I nailed the window shut
and sewed the curtains closed.
Lemon sunlight seeks the cracks;
bird song rattles the panes.
Rain hums an invitation
to come watch it reach into the earth
and draw forth the green grass.
Make it go away.
Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015
Starlings wait outside
for the blackbirds to come 'round
so they can kick butt.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Copyright © Cynthia Jones | Year Posted 2015
Spring Forward but why
Kiss an hour goodbye
Up at five instead of six
Think we forgot arithmetic
But you extend sunny days
Is if you get to play
More yard work more A C
Too dang hot to want sunny
Up at the pitch of black
What kind of trade off is that
Control control do as we say
Spring Forward just obey
Goodbye old drive-in theaters
Goodbye enjoying summer later
Get to bed so you can get up
Spring Forward kicks your butt
Yes I whine and complain Jack
Until the day I can Fall Back
Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2015
A spring frog came to my bath one day
Unknowingly to me when I began.
I undressed quietly and stepped into the tub.
I hopped out when he jumped in!
Forgetting my clothes and propriety,
I left the room in a huff.
I will bathe when I can be by myself,
No frog will see me in the buff!
Frog though he is…
He could be a handsome prince in disguise!
Copyright © Betty Butler | Year Posted 2016
End of Mars
The wind that blew through
the open window
was not sweet spring air.
Hard eyed and frosty, killing
sparrows in their nest; sheep
are overcome by snow
and breakfast is cold on my plate.
It wasn’t going to promise a thaw
or an eternal spring for all.
So shiver, this is reality,
no easy ride to a summer fair.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2013