Best Redfish Poems
Tiny boardwalk along the Halifax River
Waiting to see what “catch” nature will deliver
Royal Palms’ fronds rustle in fall’s gentle breeze
No noisy distractions from teens on their jet skis
Cute baby seagull swims above my fishing line
Unlike a pet, this bird doesn’t bark, bite or whine
He knows me well and I can tell he wants to eat
So I toss bait and he bobs his head for the treat
Yet he lingers, craving a flounder or redfish
You see, my companion and I have the same wish
Quick tug at my line; what prize might lie below?
A hefty blue crab emerges as my cargo
With claws and feathers interacting, I’m amused
But break up the fight so no animal’s abused
Such friends make life better for one who lives alone
In a pandemic when isolation’s seeds are thrown
Fishermen appreciate little rays of hope
That grant a smile and make it easier to cope
August 15, 2020
For Silent One’s “Sanctuary” poetry contest
I went through the alphabet and wrote the first word that came to mind in alphabetical order then I put them into a poem. I think it’s pretty funny. Read it and reply…
Alternative, Barracuda, Catastrophe, Eventful, Dramatization, Faithful, Gruesome, Harmful, Jubilant, Kaleidoscope, Lemon, Maniac, Norway, Opulent, Precise, Quirky, Resentful, Shameful, Tantalizing, Unfortunate, Victory, Warranted, Xylophone, Yearning,
Zany
Playing With Words
As an alternative to dinner
we decided on the barracuda
which turned out to be a real catastrophe.
Without a full dramatization
of the eventful season we had, simply put,
we have been forever faithful to the cause.
Albeit gruesome or gross,
there were no concerns of harmful fish bones,
and we were jubilant when we
looked into the kaleidoscope
to find a lemon yellow redfish
with the personality of a maniac.
Much to our delight when took the fish to Norway we were
pleasantly surprised at the opulent and fanciful ways of the people.
We were extremely precise in our movements
around this quirky little town
not wanting to attract any resentful stares
while parading around in our shameful ways with our fish.
Our tantalizing habits drew much scorn
which was an unfortunate way impress others.
We heard a xylophone play in the distance and
had to resist our yearning to
overpower the townspeople with more zany
written rhetoric.
Whenever I feel the dirge
Moments, days that pass without hope
My pleasure begins to emerge
The moment I pick up the old fishing pole
So much negativity is purged
When the bait lady smiles at me
This special day I think I’ll splurge
Not one kind of bait, but three
Paths to the river and ocean diverge
A sense of glee follows me to the bridge
As onto the river banks I emerge
Below the emerald pine tree ridge
Grinning now, gone is the scourge
As I cast my line, a manatee passes by
“Enjoy your swim, my friend,” I urge
And into the water my line does fly
The song in my heart finds its way to my lips
As I watch the bait and hook submerge
A redfish chomps, the pole swiftly dips
At one with nature, I converge
Reeling in the fish, placing hands on her fins
The Hallelujah chorus begins!
*Entry for Frank's "What Turns You On?" contest