Best Fishing Net Poems
There is a place where the land bows down to kiss the misty tide,
Where rolling waves bring memories of the place my heart resides.
There among the old fishing shacks that stretch along the shore,
I find the thing I’m longing for, in your sweet embrace once more.
We sit together on a weathered log I carve my initials on,
And as you mend the fishing net, I sing your favorite song,
“Oh Danny Boy”, falls on the wind and floats across the bay,
As you smile at me and melt my heart, with words you do not say.
Beneath a golden sun with the fish and the smell of wild flowers,
A little girl and her Grandpa, sit happily and while away the hours,
And when the sun dips in the bay, we put the mended nets away,
And hand-in-hand walk home again, to the end of a perfect day.
~~~~~~
Author: Elaine George
(In loving memory of Theodore Evans - My Grandfather)
A rose named Brighton
For your funeral flowers
A stunning golden yellow hue
The place you were born Son
But now sadly gone Son
This yellow rose so perfect
I pray my Son you see it too
A year has gone by
Your family and I
here to celebrate your life
your son ~ your daughter ~ your mum ~ your wife
We take a short walk
to the Bandstand
looking to the sea beyond
For our gift to you
is the Brighton rose
A symbol of our love
But oh my Son
you had other ideas
Was it you ~ were you having some fun
For the rose kept returning
Despite the tide turning
And kept ending up on the beach in the sun
Several times
your dear son
threw it back in the sea
but each time it returned
did you send it back for me
With love in our hearts we shed a few tears
When all of a sudden a small child appears
Clutched in her hand a pink fishing net
Wondering what she would catch
And before we could stop her
your rose she doth net
As we sensed her excitement
skipping over the stones
our mouths were wide open ~ our eyes they met
She was showing her mother your rose in her net
Your wife at this point
She dashed to retrieve
saying …
‘The rose was for my husband
we had put it in the sea
So I would be very grateful
if you return the rose to me’
Her mother she was mortified
and handed back your rose
and once again your yellow rose
floated in a wintery sea
though still returned again and again
and that is when you spoke to me
‘Mum please don't you see
I am cold
I am wet
take me home I plea
Do not leave me in the sea’
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
The yellow rose I dried
and tears of joy I cried
now in a vase
here next to me
your Brighton Rose
now here forever
just for me
to see…
Written 17th November 2020
Contest ALL YOURS (JAN 24)
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
Be careful because it is
my memories you step on
Once upon a time
two small children's feet in white shoes
A little girl of only two
today with a different point of view
We all have our moments
a time we could wish relive
I had almost forgotten
all the rabbits that once jumped around
on this open and free landscape
Smoke no longer rises from the chimney
The light floods in through the windows,
cobwebs hanging like a fishing net
in the living room
Angel dust; leave it alone,
it falls down with time
Diving for seahorses
to ride on old memories
Where the grain gently bent in the wind
I was too curious to walk by
The roof succumbs to the ravages of time
A old childhood home
so many memories come to mind
The stairs are worn and
the moss has been allowed to grow
The child was a flower bud with wings
31/07/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Dusty Old Memories Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1st place in the contest
If these racists be so plentiful
As them in power would believe.
There should be at least one found
Lurking... about my property.
How to catch this dreaded beastie
Was overarching on my mind?
So I laid waste my poor computer
To just see what I might find.
They are devoid of any substance
With a certain weakness 'bout the chin.
But the optimal way to spot a racist...
Is the color of its skin.
They are privy to beer and peanuts
With America's flag a source of pride.
But before they'd drive a Prius...
There's no law they wouldn't defy.
I take not a racist's capture lightly
Should one I chance to meet.
They are easily lured with a few simple words
And a flaming cut of beef.
With a healthy dose of patriotic fever...
I set out to numb this vile threat.
I grab my Mickey Mantle baseball bat
And my favorite fishing net.
I hide behind a Mulberry bush
To circumscribe this would-be menace.
Then give a loud shout... to them here about
"Three cheers for white supremacists!"
To my chagrin and stunned bewilderment...
There was no racist to be caught.
But a hundred media reporters
Suddenly swarmed my hiding spot.
They had no interest in abject poverty
Or an educational system past review.
But the chance to photograph a racist...
Well... that would front the evening news.
They waited through the morning
To appease their 'youtube' fans.
But with no racist's skin to log and capture...
They left to twist another plan.
I wandered home empty-handed
Stopping at a mirror aside the stairs.
With my apologies to them in power...
I still saw no racist there.
The End
*Fow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your Uncle.
Elderly man’s fishing net hangs in his shed
The fish he caught in his backyard stream multiply
Net use was banned; he couldn’t afford a pole
Joy and sustenance gone, a tear falls from his eye
House Bill 875 would ban backyard farms
Forcing vegetable growers to invest cash
In overpriced produce on supermarket shelves
Uncle Sam flexes his muscle, makes his whip lash
The right to freely worship is endangered
As prayer is prohibited in public schools
Government intrusion invades all our lives
Public pleas are not heard by those who make rules
Freedom to choose our doctors is now threatened
Socialized medicine diminishes choice
Speech censorship? Just ask the Smothers Brothers
Who canceled their own show with a stifled voice
As crime escalates, look to the constitution
The NRA spends billions to protect Americans' rights
To bear arms against oppressors while thieves laugh
And sue owners of homes invaded in the night
Can this be what our forefathers had in mind
When they sought to escape a king’s tyranny?
Our rights are being limited more each day
In a nation spawned to promote liberty
Natural disasters prelude Judgment Day
Eerie escalation – tsunamis, earthquakes
But perhaps when the dust finally settles
Those who survive will learn from our past mistakes
Governments will form only to preserve peace
Not to strip away rights ancestors pursued
Don’t blink! Precious freedoms are now endangered
By those who feel they’re elected to intrude
On the coast of gold(Ghana) where ethnic cultures intertwines like glittering and colourful 'bonwire' kente
A vibrant tapestry of diversity divine.
Starting from the South where the powerful Ashanti real heritage
Tracing to the Fante coastal tales of the sea
Across the Nzema fishing net cast upon the tides
To the Ewe's rhythmic abadza
And the atumpan of the Ashanti's that echoes
And rejoices to the dance adowa beating the soil.
Oh Ghana's culture, beacon of our pride
A tool for democratic thrive
The history and festivals like aboakyir, Samba and Kundum
stirs our spirit as the gleaming star of the east forces the earth to revolve around it
Ghanaian culture beauty blooms as democracy prevails within us
For Warrior King's culture, a tool we wield to build a generation graced with autonomy indeed.
The Black Volta spreads walks majestically as autonomy and democracy spreads it's wings
The symphony of highlife and Sankofa the mythical bird of the acient trumpet proverbs of those days
For it is not just the taste of our abunuabunu or the gold that adorn our neck that makes us take our stance
But Remember diversity of our culture
Warrior King's in diversity
In defence shall we fight and perish to bring the eagle full of might
Our culture unite
Our culture our voice
Our culture transforms and clear every blurrish sight
Let us all come together and celebrate Ghanaian culture the Genesis and revelation of democracy.
Thank you
< once there was a girl locked in closet
dear old dad said well thats what you get
little did he come know
let out by little bro
but recaptured by moms fishing net
Entry For Leighann Anderson's
Sea Of Words Contest
G.L. All
A ribbon of gold gilds
cascading waves of blue.
And with a searing kiss,
Sol bids the sea adieu.
Slippery shadows slide,
slipping between ripples.
And Luna starts to tug
upon the rising tide.
Its rusty hull, tangled
in an old fishing net.
A wind-wrecked derelict
fades to a silhouette.
A shiny silver moon
gets tarnished by the Night.
And where darkness gathers,
Dusk douses Day's last light.
An orange horizon
underscores Sol's descent.
And stars start to twinkle:
with His regal consent.
Opening the door of my room, rushing towards
me the scent of luring perfume, lowering my
eyes lazy and tickles my lungs, adding pep to
my step,heart beats run fast, at the sight of
cheetah prints on bra peaking from beneath the
cover of my lover, Stepping gingerly towards
her, as to not disturb the ground,she lays on
bed, as angel on powdery clouds of clay, waiting
to take shape of foreplay, the waving
twinkle in her eye greets me, meets me half
way, though she hadn't made a move. ~ NOCTURNAL NECTAR
Cascading ringlets of hair, draping the arm she
uses to prompt her sunshine above, I stand
rapt in awe, my jaw nearly touching the floor,
she slightly lifts a blanket of stars, inviting me
to her vast universe of beauty, I count each
breath and petal of her rose, I guide each
kiss down her river as she shivers and tickle
her with tongue and nose, until she curls her
toes, until the hair on the back of her neck
stands and her eye lashes flutter like butterfly ~ NOCTURNAL NECTAR
At last reaching for the stars I finally arrive,
entering the milky way, tossed by raging yet
calm seas, that never cease to release a whiff
of lavender breeze, born the sound of slowly
jingling keys with every rub of our body and
knees, we beget sweat, we beget wet my
boldness caught in her fishing net, twirling
swirling in a moment of infinite enchantment,
in waters of oshun drifting like flaming log
along her lagoon, taking the breaths that
she first gave, carefully handling her ticking
bomb, tick tock tick tock she is soon to explode,
as I goad, inspire higher ,inspire and goad her,
to bear the load, along the road, hearts skipping
like toads, united we shatter our load like clouds ~ NOCTURNAL NECTAR
Finally he has gone to fish
With a nylon net
Since unskilled he is
Anyhow has set the net,
But, o! he alone has caught
All the fishes
No a single one in the pond
For them, you or us,
Modern devises are so accurate
To finish things at once
Beings also face same fate
Here, there always.
an agile perch
jumps out of the fishing net
labour lost
=================
Placement:None; (January 2011)
Contest:Haiku vs Senryu
Sponsor:Charles Henderson
By:kashinath karmakar(18th January,2011)
On the coast of gold(Ghana) where ethnic cultures intertwines like glittering and colourful 'bonwire' kente
A vibrant tapestry of diversity divine.
Starting from the South where the powerful Ashanti real heritage
Tracing to the Fante coastal tales of the sea
Across the Nzema fishing net cast upon the tides
To the Ewe's rhythmic abadza
And the atumpan of the Ashanti's that echoes
And rejoices to the dance adowa beating the soil.
Oh Ghana's culture, beacon of our pride
A tool for democratic thrive
The history and festivals like aboakyir, Samba and Kundum
stirs our spirit as the gleaming star of the east forces the earth to revolve around it
Ghanaian culture beauty blooms as democracy prevails within us
For Warrior King's culture, a tool we wield to build a generation graced with autonomy indeed.
The Black Volta spreads walks majestically as autonomy and democracy spreads it's wings
The symphony of highlife and Sankofa the mythical bird of the acient trumpet proverbs of those days
For it is not just the taste of our abunuabunu or the gold that adorn our neck that makes us take our stance
But Remember diversity of our culture
Warrior King's in diversity
In defence shall we fight and perish to bring the eagle full of might
Our culture unite
Our culture our voice
Our culture transforms and clear every blurrish sight
Let us all come together and celebrate Ghanaian culture the Genesis and revelation of democracy.
Thank you
caught in the fishing net
of your best nightmares
a long-lost love
dear fisherman
I’m sitting silently listening to the swoosh swoosh of the sea
Children paddle in icy sapphire water, so young and carefree
Their screams of innocent laughter are ringing in my ear
I reminisce of my childhood and dream of yesteryear
Of days before computers and the electronic age
Mobile phones weren’t invented, now they are all the rage
Bleep Bleep Bleep oh how irritating, it is a constant noise
But now they are essential to many young girls and boys
Life so full of simple pleasures, wind blowing through my hair
Running round barefooted with kites floating in mid air
Digging spectacular sandcastles with a dramatic moat
Splashing around in the sea together in a tiny little boat
Enjoying a perfect picnic on the golden sand
Getting an ice cream and it melting down my hand
Finding stunning starfish and a pretty pink seashell
Take them into school to display at show and tell
Climbing into craggy rock pools with a fishing net
Falling on the rocks getting clothes soaking wet
Bathing beauties on the beach topping up a tan
Suns rays beating down they wish they had a fan
08~-2~14
Written for Vibrant Verse Contest 2 Sponsored by Charlotte Puddifoot
So unbelievably alive
A man puts out his fishing net
Without even a slight breeze or breath
while he waits … on the wriggling fish
Fluctuations in the sound of seagulls
A universe for the silent man
listening, longing and living
Exquisitely flight in all the right places
how could they knows
no harm from the sharp edges
They will hunt again tomorrow
In a sky blue horizon
and a crystal clear hymn from the ocean
All develop over time, with humility
Like the waves consume along the coast
19/02/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved