To thee, departed fish

Be it planktons ye feed on or small fish Afloat in sea on pair of fins as feet, Whatso waters may have fancied your wish, Perhaps it was lake as your safe retreat From fishermen or anglers indiscreet. Perchance as Cod, your oil livers did cure, A gourmet chose you for a choicest treat And picked ye up from a shop floor secure. O Beauty, fit to be in a fish tank, What pity, you’re on a kitchen platform, What travesty of destiny’s fair norm That you were looked at just as lifeless lank. Yet, O departed fish, we find you fine, A fair dish if consumed with table wine. ______________________________________ Sonnet |05.06.2024| fish