Fool's Errand
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Human written on 8/13/2025 for PIck-A-Title Vol 54 Poetry Contest sponsored by Edward Ibeh
From his bottle, Grandpa took a sip.
I gazed sleepily at his bottle ship.
Grandpa said that life could be so cruel.
Grandma said, your grandpa is a fool.
Grandpa ran his mouth from his chair and
Grandma said he always runs a fool's errand.
Grandpa said he sought the Holy Grail,
but he came up empty without fail.
Grandpa's poured out tales, an ocean deep.
The bottle ship, soon gone, and I, asleep.
Soon, I was a fisherman in a dream,
fishing for happiness in a saltwater bream,
The bream said, "I'll give you a little tip -
happiness. through your hands, will always slip".
I tried to catch freedom in a sailing fish,
but he flew away, along with that futile wish.
So, I tried to catch tuna, the fish of truth,
and came up with just a fallacy of youth.
Next I looked for beauty in the marlin,
but she put me down, "take a hike, darlin".
The fish of justice, my next angling goal,
took money while reading from a scroll.
Ah, so money must be the fish to grab -
but, sick and unloved, I picked up the tab.
Every fish and thing I strived for was a joke,
and one by one they all went up in smoke.
All the fish in my dream were just a school
to teach that searching is the errand of a fool.
When I awoke, my Grandpa, too, was snoring,
Grandma said, "to himself, he's even boring".
I decided then, I would make my life at sea -
to catch anything, there'd be no guarantee.
I don't know anything worth anything anyway,
except the ocean's sand and salty spray.
Copyright © David Crandall | Year Posted 2025
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