THE BEACH
sand between your toes
sun tanners' bath on the beach
swimmers in the sea
THE PLAYGROUND
children on the swings
chasing dogs- after squirrels
chalk made- hopscotch
FISHING
fisherman casting
fly-fishing for rainbow trout
frying pans await
ENTERTAINMENT
concerts in the park
country fairs and carnivals
camping 'neath the stars
SPORTS
basketballs bouncing
baseballs being hit and caught
balloonists in air
SUMMER
spring has departed
sun showers in the forecast
summertime rainbows
The spirit of the old west
a cowboy of song
He sings a pleasant tenor on the world and its wrongs
And he lifts up the spirits when he sings of what's gone right
and he's cheered this game producers days and her nights
He explains his profession in the most basic ways
and he teases and conjoles and flirts and has his say
He's clearly a boss man on his own large spread
but he meets her in cyberspace to laugh and share a thread
We talk about the state of the world, the simple things
the things that bring us strife
and we talk about music and the sorrows of past life
And we speak about the challenges of our every day
and he makes me laugh and think so fast
And cares melt away
Distraction, attraction, laughter and mental rapture
soulmate best friend energy there
I challenge this man to remain my friend
to have and hold on the physical plane
Cause cyberspace is fun and all, but I would rather be fly fishing
or riding horses in the back 40 and singing cowboy poetry
My cowboy poet - Artimus (C) For you, you know who Susan Manley
( pool noodle fights or water balloons, I tell you)
There's a dull ache in my casting arm,
But I can't complain everything is still and calm.
I just have to try and try,
To make sure I use the right fly.
There are so many to choose from either dry or wet,
I am going for dry which seems the best bet.
The one I choose I tied myself,
You won't find another on any shop shelf.
It's shiny and green,
And is bound to be seen.
I wind in all of the slack,
Then I cast the fly back.
To the spot I saw the water swirl,
And I thought I saw a big tail curl.
My aim is spot on,
And in an instance the fly has gone.
In an explosion of foam,
At last a trout of my own.
In the sparking shower of green, silver blue,
At last my hopes have come true.
I am content now just the water and me,
And a lovely fresh trout to take home for my tea.
Ben is Australian, a BBQ king,
Burning and scorching meat is just his thing.
He came from Aus some years ago, and met his own lovely English rose.
He still has an accent, but has learnt to call his friends mate, instead of just cobber,
He loves fly fishing because you carry less clobber.
Ben's prefect day would be to catch a trout,
Then BBQ it and share it about
Congregation of deception,
Sitting in darkness and decked out
In fineries: the silk, the fur,
Feathered dull or bright, just waiting
To be called by river’s song, rings
Of rises yet hoped into fish.
Some are returned warriors,
Blunted and twisted out of true,
Though truth’s a lie for them and blends
Somehow beyond a memory.
Some new-made catchers of the eye,
Wait for their opportunity to come.
A hundred hopes and falsehoods rest
Under one hinged roof, lined up
To do or die, and every one
With a sharp point of view,
A heartbreak to be driven home.
A damn fool, heavenly muse,
rising out of chaos, with loss of Eden
its exorbitant price!
Nothing pure and upright, no aid
to my adventurous song, inspire
disobedience!
What is mine is in darkness, illuminates
indifference!
It asserts its rightful place in
the heart of beloved, all your woe
and curses thrown on the forbidden tree!
And that shepherd who ate his lamb
to get into heaven's back door, unseen, satiated
by the Siloa's Brook where angels go fly fishing
giggling by the sight of the shepherd waving at them,
that man's first disobedience, lured by the taste of
passion in the air.
Awake before the sunrise,
one with the breeze and water.
Like my father who brought me here
and taught me this graceful dance
of line and wind and stillness~
the art of fly fishing~
And the simple pleasure of
a morning on the river.
5/5/2019
Free Verse Or Rhyme Poetry Contest
Eve Roper, Sponsor
Picture #3
Fishing
Fly fishing, enjoyable fun
Footsteps quietly approaching
Fast rapids, the October's run
Fresh water fishing guides coaching
Flies that are tied, a nymph I trust
Finesse and patience is a must
Finest rewards, dinner awaits
Pleiades Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
6/5/2018
Fishnet
stalking
so many fish
just jump right in
then find themselves
out of their element
trapped
and suffocating
Oh
to grow a pair
I know it's hard to walk away
when you haven't any legs
evolution can be so slow