You love the Ocean
as it comes
I love the Ocean
as it goes
Caught in its tide
of becoming
Washed in the change
— of its flow
(Yarmouth Massachusetts: September, 1974)
No wish to carp or cock a snook
I won't leave you in the lurch
but oh my cod take a look
what a plaice to perch
as just for the halibut
putting seahorses out to paddock
is enough to give one
a severe bad haddock
so no red herring I don't flounder around
take a peeled eel flake of baked hake
plus pinch of pickled pilchard
and an ichthyic sandwich make
but if my words are vitriolic
you may grunt and kiss my bass
it's all a load of pollock(s)
Imaginary
fictional seaside village
mystery writer sleuth
*Image of Little Boy Fishing by Mutual Art
Cape Cod Boy
A warring feat
expands beneath
petite and huge contends,
a unique line
tugging the brine
taunting as it suspends,
a juvenile
bear naught a smile
a glimpse enigma lends,
too close to shore
new hopes implore
that cod and haddock wends,
true tasty meats
fresh scene unseats
entreaties pleased extends,
aspect well made
fulfilled persuade
the wait, the catch godsends.
2021 October 31
*1st Place*
Rhyming Me A Poem 2
~~Eve Roper: Judged 2021 November 14
Photo #2
*HM*
Absolutely Anything
~~Shreya LN: Judged 2022 January 31
From a distance a lighthouse horn blows
The mist settles in, fishermen do not go
A beacon light gleams and attracts
Sights and sounds, from a warning tract.
From a distance, harbor lights in a row
Tides smooth over, ripples are low
Seagulls landing, shells lie about
This must be Cape Cod no doubt
Grasped in the fish monger’s fingers
The lingering ling cod now lingers
Knowing in the fingers of the fish monger
A ling cod will linger no longer
I could not paint a better picture,
Than the one in front of me,
Of twists and turns of the canal,
Bordered by endless trees.
A warm day with a slight breeze,
Giving the grass moving shadows of leaves,
Multiple species of birds stop by,
Some on the ground, some in the sky.
Gulls, Terns and Cormorants dive,
For crustaceans and fish of various size,
While sparrows, robins and occasional chickadees,
Grab insects on the fly.
Parades of boats, barges and ships,
Fascinate and entertain our time,
Sitting by the canal is more than a pastime,
It's watching life at its prime.
Fishermen, bicyclists, joggers and tourists,
They enjoy this special place,
Taking it all in; they embrace,
Nature at its purest!
The majestic Murray cod is native to Australia's inland rivers including the Murray River. It grows to a maximum size of about 6 foot and 250 lb in weight. The maximum estimated age is about 50 years. Divers in clear water are often confronted by these huge gentle fish that are very curious. Those that stare eye-to-eye with these magnificent creatures in the wild, or in tanks in captivity, are spooked and deeply affected by the experience. I was part of a team of scientists that established the age and growth of Murray cod. I live in awe of them to this day. Take a trip and stare eye-to-eye with a cod before you die.
Big Fella Cod
Murray cod sublime
when met, looked at eye to eye
so deeply profound
Cod Fish Stew
Ocean fresh with onions only enhanced Dad's delicious dish
11/11/2015
~ For Andrea's Food & Our Memory Connections contest ~
Out of the flow
Behind the log
Big mouth grabs black yabby.
When Christmas party is foiled by flu
What then, does a harried hostess do?
She goes to the phone
Says, “We must poshtpone.
We’ll reschedule when the dyear is dew”.
(the year is new)
Cod Fish in Aus
Lines are set to catch a cod
Spring sticks an 100 lb of cord
Shark hook with a wire trace
he’s taken line an rod this ace
but no it is not odd
deep pools is where cod do lurk
he stole the rod of fat Mac Gurk
he tried to shoot him, got the boat
near to drown in old great coat
no it did not work
a cod was lifted by young Jim
a pelican showered him
blinded by the vapor trail
he held the cod fish lost the tail
lost fish an awful sin
Don Johnson attempting a Limerick :)
The Feeling of Fishing while Floating
Is Graded on Goading, and Gloating
Bystanders oft blindly believe
In salmon the size of my sleeve
Tall Tales at the Time Told True
In Grandeur they Gained and they Grew
But my Rod and Reel won't Remember
Come the Dread and the Din of December
And by the Time I again Tell my Tale
I Will have Wrangled Ahab's White Whale
2/13/11
COD
Overrated Game
Ruining perfect relationships
Taking life from teens
Pointless
Brunette shadows echo off of the afternoon;
moving loftily through the atmosphere with cotton kisses
Under a pastel, sea blue dome
Star gazing pines stand tall and high
Reaching up and out, for a brush of the sun
Along the craggy path of thickened scrubs;
Coarse sea plants engage, along the road
White sands pose in piles,
that look as though they were drawn, by an artist
Toasted air passes by my window,
as we approach the seaside
The Atlantic Ocean haunts my senses
Mounds of sand dunes reach up in spectacle,
as their tall rough grasses shift in the breeze
Swarms of bodies bathe by the waters
Children swam in piles of sand ,
with buckets and shovels and laughter alike
The soothing sounds of the waves -
crashing along, in constant frantic motion
We rest on our blanket of ease
The sounds of the ocean caress and utter, in the breeze
We are in a motionless trace of sight and sensations
Locked in my memory, I have bottled a moment in time
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