Fishing For Supper
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like Terry Flood.
With the sun on my back and my stick float aglow
I watched as it trotted along in the flow
There’d been little rain so the current was slow
I was ready to strike because sometimes you know
You can’t know what tells you to hover your hand
Just over your reel but you still understand
That instinct is what kept the caveman alive
And instinct now tells you your float’s gonna dive
I could handle a nice tasty trout for my tea
For I doubted a salmon was what it would be
It could be a grayling, a dace or a chub
In which case I’d grab me a bite in the pub
My float disappeared as I’d known that it would
I lifted my rod and I set the hook good
The bend in my rod gave me reason to smile
The heaviest fish I had played in a while
The fish used the current to help save its skin
I showed it who’s boss and it slowly came in
Then, guessing I wouldn’t make news on the telly
I slipped my net under an old rubber welly
Copyright © Terry Flood | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment