On the edge of gartan lake a forest path once lead, to a clearing down amongst the trees with only stars up over head.
There I slept and fished by night,
The little fly cast in twilight.
The parr I caught, released was he, now strong I hope, that it may be.
A walking trail they did decide, put by the lake, along the side.
The beauty once, wild and free, could be found down amongst the trees.
The trees now torn, a path replaced, human kind, be disgraced.
For who are you, to lay down claim, to land belonged to all the same.
The chirping now, far and thin, from the paradise, it had once been.
The sorrow deep, for what was lost, do they even see what the cost?
Distracted, busy, a busy bee. Too busy to think, too busy to see.
One day I pray the trees reclaim, the land now stolen for the lane.
The little church, upon the hill, as I approach, no longer thrill.
The little path, once walked alone, paradise over, paved by stone.
Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
There's a mind numbing pain at work in my head.
Wash my hair and comb my face,
Something died in my mouth, where's the toothpaste.
Grab a quick bit of breakfast and rush out the door.
Can't find my keys they fell on the floor.
Finally find them and start the car.
I'm gonna be late, well that's about parr.
Hit every stop light on the way to work,
Look down and notice there's a stain on my shirt.
Forgot to let Spike out, he's crossing his legs.
Have to go back, this morning's the dregs.
The absolute bottom, the pits, it's the worst!
What else could happen, it seems that I'm cursed!
Wait a minute, it's Monday, first day of the week.
No wonder this day has begun so bleak.
Come ahead Monday, get it over with now!
I've got bon bons and chocolates and a little brown cow,
To soothe and to comfort my poor shattered nerves,
And to bind and to buffer the slings and the curves;
Do your worst Monday, come on have a fit!
You can't scare me, I've got chocolate!
salmon leap... for life
shallow streams bid them welcome
otters... all well fed
elvers... millions
passing salmon parr... seabound
smoked eel... delicious
tench... the doctor fish
sought by the diseased... ailing
the river flows on
the great white shark swims
an ever hungry beauty
makes good poetry
the Nile perch... hungry
nigh ate Lake Victoria
greedy humans
European perch
freshwater tiger mimics
finned finesse... tasty
Tommy Ruffe
a freshwater Pope... fishy
no bad habits
whale sharks
fancy the small things in life
jellyfish can sting
a fishy tale...
sirens of the oceans
Davy Jones... shoppers
Six wives - three Catherines, two Annes and a Jane
were married to Henry in the course of his reign.
An Anne and a Catherine met their end by the axe.
Anne Boleyn was too haughty, Catherine Howard too lax.
Henry's very first wife was Catherine of Aragon,
both pious and faithful, a virtuous paragon.
Producing no sons, she incurred a divorce.
Anne of Cleves followed a similar course.
Her face was spotty; she had bad teeth and bad breath.
Don’t trust a portrait, the wise man saith..
Jane Seymore very sadly died as she gave birth.
Henry's last wife, Catherine Parr, was a woman of worth.
More a nurse than a playmate, she bathed Hal with affection
and did a good job to relieve his dejection.
Envoi
So that's the close of this ditty,
which I think is rather a pity.
No, I'm not the Poet Laureate,
as the Royal Court never saw to it.
If I were paid to do so,
I'd keep writing like Robinson Crusoe.
Seems King 'Enry The Eighth in 'is choice of wives wasn't all that judicious.
To 'Is Grace's regret they were either too ambitious, promiscuous or capricious!
'E solved such prickly matters for five of them by divorce or grisly be'eadation!
'E 'ad to protect 'is own somewhat dubious reputation as 'ead of the nation!
Anne Boleyn and Kate 'Oward lost their 'eads to the dreaded axe,
For being a tad froward with 'Enry and with morals somewhat lax!
Marriages to Anne of Cleves and Kate of Aragon were conveniently dissolved.
Jane Seymour did 'er duty giving 'im a male heir, then died - crisis solved!
Kate Parr was widowed when King 'Enry crossed that mysterious River Styx,
But 'is five other wives as 'istory records, were left in one 'ell of a fix!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
It seem's to me
That not even poetry
Nor truth or reality
Can redefine
The border lines
That the modern day Hollywood Blockbuster
Have already surpassed and eclipsed
With comically bad Sub - Parr scripts
And even though incoherently funny
They will rake in the money
And if you read this
And simply dismiss
Deem me annoying
I ask of you this
The defense mechanism
You are you now employing
Did you come to yourself
Or are you like me
That tares eyes wide open
Believing it all
A minor foot note
In invisible print
On the front page media
Surfing wikipedia