Long Crappie Poems
Long Crappie Poems. Below are the most popular long Crappie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crappie poems by poem length and keyword.
I cannot lie, I’m not that spry
still angling is my game
but never had luck with walleye
pickerel by Ontario's name.
We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.
Wasaksina Lake up Temagami way
has a wicked western fetch
there's trout, pike and bass, but hey
was walleye we came to ketch.
We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.
Came in late fall, paddling two canoes
made camp on the big middle isle
then west wind blew and waves tall grew
we knew we were there for a while.
We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame..
Grub was short so we fished the lee
in hopes of a good fish fry
jigging for a few crappie
but felt the tug of a good walleye
We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.
The fish it started a good strong run
to the screech of my fishing reel
if we lost the lee, knew we were done
tightened drag to bring fish to heel
We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.
The reel smoked, thought all was lost
but then the fish she turned
slack line, a gust, canoe was tossed
empty hook was all returned.
We're windbound on Wasaksina
waiting for the west wind to wane
We're windbound on Wasaksina
with walleye all to blame.
Skimming through the firmament, looping round the stars
Dancing through the Milky Way, pass and say goodbye to Mars
Whooshing through the galaxy thousands of miles an hour
Ducking the shooting stars, watching the meteorites shower.
For some, they need excitement to get them through their day
Others it is for money they get on their knees and pray
Celebrities for the shallow, cheeks to turn for the meek
All these things make up the world, but what do we each seek?
Sweets for the sweet but not for me please honey
Not into chocolate bars, not into money
Clothes for the naked, stilettos for the short
Exercise for the weak, for the rest there’s always sport
Food for the hungry, bed and mattress for those without
Parents for the orphans, that goes without a doubt
yet something just for me, may sound a trifle crappie
A smiling face every day, to show you are happy.
© 25/11/2012 ~GG~
she is so crazy,
sometimes lazy,
also naughty,
and many a time knotty
she laughs when someone's sad.
I get embarrassed and go mad,
and tackle the situation by saying"laughter,
the best medicine" and I perform like a best actor;
She cries when someone's happy
Again, I feel very crappie
and say"He he...It's happy tears"
Oh!Her craziness gets worse every year
Her iniquity plays at her peak,
especially in the exam hall,when I ask
to recall the answer for a question,
She starts humming film songs
When I am disinclined to converse,
she starts speaking verses.
when I am inquisitive to speak,
she keeps mum and makes me freak.
When I decide to see good in bad people,
she recalls the things done by those evils.
When I awfully hate someone,
she evoke their good things done.
At the end of the day, she complains,
"You did nothing today, no gain,
You are worthless, nothing"
And I say: "You are responsible for everything"
She never hears me
and she never agrees
because,
she is so crazy,
sometimes lazy,
also naughty,
and many a time knotty
I was a mere lad of ten living on a prairie farm in Hoosier land,
Roaming the fields in my old straw hat, barefoot, carefree and tanned.
My faithful dog, Spooks, was always with me chasing rabbits,
(And rabbits were very plentiful due to their prolific habits!)
We had no inside facilities such as running water or a bath.
Our privy, as it was called, was located at the end of a winding path!
A Saturday night ritual was taking a sitz bath in a metal washing tub,
Then we'd pile in Dad's '35 Dodge and head for town after my scrub.
There was no TV in those days and my ears were glued to the radio,
Following the adventures of my heroes, filtered through static-filled audio!
I spent my meager allowance buying model planes and crafting the things.
Dozens hung from the ceiling of my room floating on gossamer wings.
I used a supple willow branch for a rod and a safety pin for a hook,
Angling for crawdads and wily crappie in the cool and flowing brook.
The Great Depression was ending way back then when I was ten.
Alas, World War Two began and things were never the same again.
On languid summer afternoons on a limb of the old oak tree I'd stretch,
And watch the scudding clouds as boyhood dreams I'd sketch.
Those were some of the things I did way back then when I was ten.
I'm four score and five now, but how I cherish memories of way back then!
Entry for Kelly Deschler's "Way Back When I Was Ten" Contest
COPING WITH POO!
Two young boys left in charge of a baby,
A recipe for disaster that’s no maybe,
Take baby to the local fair,
Without a care, they did dare,
Head for the whip, put baby on one of their laps,
She has missed one of her afternoon naps,
Is out of her comfort zone, she has a big poo,
It’s really stinky, now what do they do?
The stinky nappy angers more than a few
The atmosphere had a certain poo hue!
The whip, twists and whirls and twirls, baby’s nappy
Begins to come loose and baby is not happy,
She’s feeling sick, she vomits, and the nappy snaps,
Poo and vomit fly everywhere, poor chaps!
They run, the situation has now become crappie,
Most of the people are agitated and unhappy!
On the way out buy mom a sweater,
Thought she might favor them better!
Put baby to bed, she sleeps poo and all,
Still wrapped in mom’s new shawl!
On her return Mom saw her little angel asleep,
But also could see the poo that had begun to creep
All the way up to baby’s neck and deep,
Into her bed where it had begun to seep!
Mom got very cross at first,
But thinks of the nappy that burst,
She begins to giggle
And baby woke up, and began to wiggle,
Spreading the poo
Which had become like brown glue,
Into the sheets, the wall and her hair
So now poo was everywhere!
It became a hysterical situation,
Mostly from moms absolute frustration,
Go outside and play she said to the boys, shoo, shoo,
I have a great deal of cleaning to do!
Moving to Lake Shore sites was definitely cool
Our home was so large and faced the water
Cameron fixed up an old boat
We held hands on the dock
He taught me how to cast a line and bait a hook
He caught catfish, crappie and sometimes perch
One night our dog got lost so we started a search
Our friends joined us and we went out to look
He'd seen birds and chased the whole flock
Feathers stuck to his coat
In June we had a visit from my granddaughter
It was summer break so she was off school
She had not swam anywhere other than a pool
She wanted to fish so grandpa taught her
She loved to splash, swim and to float
She'd sunbathe on a rock
She didn't like to clean fish but she would help cook
Summer at the lake was the best on earth
01/06/2021
Written for contest, A Little Memory-My Invented Form
Sponsor, Constance La France
It is morn in the countryside late in the spring,
and the lake is so placid and birds they all sing.
All the flowers in bloom and the air is so clean;
not a day that’s so lovely has ever been seen.
As I walk to the lake I can see little swirls
where the fish break the surface as morning unfurls.
It is late in the spring when the fish end their spawn
that the fishing is best; to this place I am drawn.
For the crappie are biting or so I am told,
and a stringer of fish is a sight to behold.
There’s a fish fry tonight; I can taste it right now;
to my house you can come and your friends I’ll allow.
But my telephone rings and it brings me to life
brings me back to my world which is filled with much strife;
many deadlines to meet and my day is extreme,
and my walk through the country was merely a dream.
My boy and I hung over the Elk Rapids dam railing
Shirtless
With lines swung in the churning water
The iron hum of turbines rattling through our elbows
He lands a nice Crappie
And as he rescues the bass
He looks not at his dad
Or the helpless fish staring up in horror
But watches to see if the old stern man
Fishing on the other end of the dam
Cigar crowbarred to the crease of his mouth
Might take a look
But no
He doesn’t as much glance over
To see the catch by my long-haired CEO
With his 20,000 Instagram followers
And when we step past the guy
And over his pole and tackle box
Not even then
Does he grunt nice fish nor nod good day
His leeches keeps him free of snags
That much is true of his local secrets
But we used worms and had a big day.
I've got a dish of killifish
I wish to eat that silly fish
Baked, or fried in peanut oil
Roasted, dried, or let to boil.
Make me a star-gazy pie
Take me to the Catfish Fry
Lead me to the China Sea
Feed me hermit crabs and brie.
Help me out with rainbow trout
Salt and thyme and wedge of lime
Filet of sole, or snapper red,
Served up whole, or just the head.
Meals of eels caught on reels
You're the star with caviar
Butter clams served with yams
Can't say no to salmon roe.
Tuna eyes baked in pies
Oh so daring pickled herring
In the lurch for snails and perch
Ring the bells for cockle shells.
Canned sardines on toast with greens
Sturgeon, sprat, and stuff like that
Grouper, pike, that's what I like
Smelt and bream that make me dream.
Cajun shrimp for my new pimp
Lutefisk and lobster bisque
Flying squid and yellowfin
Silver carp and capelin.
Give to me a plate of oyster
Eat them raw, that way they're moister
Tilapia and tiger prawn
Eat them 'til my hunger's gone.
Hake or krill would be a thrill
Bass and shad will make me glad
Tasty crappie makes happy
Give a nod to Greenland cod
Oo! I'd like a northern pike
Barramundi served on Sunday
Grouper, alligator gar,
Halibut or no cigar.
Amberjack atop hardtack
Pan-fried kipper for the skipper
Mackerel, tasty as hell,
Lox and mullet down the gullet.
Kokanee or marlin blue
Arowana, bowfin too
Bring to me your soups and stews
Sing for me the dogfish blues.