Best Trout Poems
In the cool of the evening he laid there basking
as my fingers touched the gleaming surface of the pool.
Deeper i penetrated till my hand was beneath him,
slowly my fingers engaged his slithery belly,
then gently with a slight single movement
to and thro, then up and down
his whole body fully relaxed as he rolled a little
to accommodate me.
As he laid there his eye and my eyes connected
each of us wondering no doubt what the next move would be,
while carefully not to let my nose which was just above the surface
play any part in this my devious quest.
Suddenly a water skater bug came floating by
and decided to explore my nostril,
at this point making me sneeze, the force of the blast
sending the bug careering upon the surface.
In a flash swallowed by my impending supper
who then scurried away to the safety
of the rocky bed of the creek,
to become King Trout for another day.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
In the river I saw a little trout
A silver flash amongst river weed.
I watched him swim and dart about
This little fish was fast indeed.
I saw him in shimmering glances
As he shot along the river bed,
Performing his lively dances
Like an arrow, how he sped.
My, this little trout could move
To watch him race it seemed to me,
He was lost in the joy of living.
The joy of being wild, and free.
You pack up all your fishing gear
On the night before
Then you wake up very early
And you head on out the door
You drive when it's still dark outside
And mist is in the air
Sandy-eyed and wide awake
Because you'll soon be there
As you approach the river
And the sun begins to rise
You step into the water
With your fishing pole and flies
Quietly you cast your line
And let the flies drift free
You let it flow into a spot
Where you think the trout might be
Patience is the remedy
And patience does prevail
You may just hook the fish you want
To bring home for a meal
I prefer to catch a trout
And then to set him free
I may keep one or two all year
And that's okay with me
When I do release a trout
It's a feeling I can't explain
I like to see him swagger off
And leave him in no pain
It's always nice to fight a trout
And it's fun to reel one in
But just to be out on the river
Will always make me grin
So if you see me fishing
Or if you see me out
Rest assure I'll be fishing for
That big old rainbow trout
Hiding from the current
The rocks shelter
Approaching flood
branches hide dark trout
swimming beneath truth of light
floating secret lives
in deep wanton quiet pools
verity lives amongst them
(June 18, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
I was not in the mood for fishing
though i brought all the gear and
Settled into my comfortable mode
Of tranquil bliss by the edge of the pool
But you being the older wiser trout
Stirred the stillness of the pool
Your proud fin cutting the surface
Like a sharpened tool waning and listing
Your tail following as you flung yourself
Like a trapeze artist with an invisible swing
The tree branches hung low overhead
Like a circus tent and i with a front rose seats
Watched in awe and surprise
As if every fish scale glittering in the sun
Was a diamond and with your final splash
As you arched your torso and disappeared
Beneath the blanket of water I cried
Tears of joy of love tears of joy of loss
And tears of joy of being serenaded by
A voiceless wise old trout
A Rainbow Trout
I don’t usually go fishing any more
But I went with friends to the lake
They said oh come on and fish a while
It is something to do for heaven’s sake
There was a contest going on
You must pay five dollars to get in
A cash prize for the biggest fish caught
And we hoped one of us would win
I gave a little sarcastic snicker
Because I hardly ever fish anymore
But I was willing to see it through
So I got a chair and sat down by the shore
It seemed I sat there for hours
And was ready to pack it all in
When I felt a definite tug on my line
I couldn’t help it as I started to grin
I could tell it was fairly good size
We were fishing for Rainbow Trout
My friend yelled, “Don’t let him get loose!”
“I know what I am talking about!!”
I finally brought that fish ashore
And what a sight it was to see
We weighed it and we measured it
And oh my! It was caught by me.
Five pounds of Rainbow trout
And twenty five inches long
They all said it was really great
Next time they came I was invited along
No I didn’t win the contest
But there was plenty of Rainbow trout
Tasty and delicious I would say
And I know what I am talking about.
Connie Moore
Trout speeds, jumps
Bear waits, pounces
Clear waterfall wins
A little bird set on the limb of a tree
chirping and warbling as loud as can be
while down by the pond a little frog set
on a rock by the water all shiny and wet
Said the frog to the bird, I can sing just like you
and started in croaking while eating flies too
A trout in the pond covered his ears
and if he'd been dry, I'm sure you'd see tears
Please stop all that croaking he said with a frown
all of that noise could make a fish drown
The little frog jumped and snapped at his fin
that all that you know he said with a grin
With a flip of his tail the trout swam away
and hid in the shadows the rest of the day
The little bird laughed and said to the frog
your singings just fine if you live in a bog
Each to their own the little frog said
and the bird did agree with a nod of his head
For the "Fable to the Rescue Contest"
Fast river on my thighs, an act of god.
The soft silvery arc of the sun caught line,
the swish and the wish of the long fly rod,
the singing of the line and the reels whine
and whipping back, line stripped off and out.
Line tightening strike! Straight as an arrow
from the bow of the rod to the Sea Trout
The fisher fights footing in the shallows.
And yet, as he struggles to win the match
the fish fights for life. Where does my heart lie?
Splash, sudden slack. Freedom! No more the catch.
Coffee cool in my tight right hand, I sigh.
And an untouched sandwich in my left hand
with fresh cucumber and salmon, canned.
Caught Cold Trout
Beyond a shadow of a doubt
went fishing to catch some cold trout
I only did caught
a cold and wet dot
along came a real walk of clout
Written: Oct. 16, 2015
Theresa
flicking tail stirs reeds
water surface swells and ebbs -
trout chases dinner
trout leaps, splashes back
rapid creek, roll loosened rock,
fisherman, no luck!
The patience of the lonesome Fisherman,
Waiting to catch Tommy Trout.
He’ll have to wait a long time though,
Tommy’s not in, he’s gone out!
there was a young trout named Dan
who loved to steel bait from the line
one day it was said
a fly hit his head
and Dan became fillets in the pan