The sun's rays come calling
Foreclosing on winter's frost
The sounds of life awaken
With the return of a season lost
Water lapping upon the shore
Shrouded by a misty fog
Nightcrawlers peeking out
From beneath a dew drenched log
Cloaked by dense green tules
In a boat solely manned
I am the stealthy fisherman
My rod and reel in hand
I can feel you gently biting
Nibbling my tasty treat
You strike with such accuracy
Then wisely you retreat
Hunger over powers caution
Snap! secured upon my hook
Let the scrimmage begin
Penance for the bait you took
Twisting, flopping. fighting
As I draw you to the shore
Your tenacity exudes maturity
You’ve played this game before
A desperate attempt at freedom
From your watery den you bound
Good lord I’ve caught Old Bassy
Your reputation is renowned
Fret not my aquatic friend
Your legacy is safe with me
A quick snip of my line
I most graciously set you free
Surely I will tell this story
But much to my dismay
They’ll call it a fishermans tale
About the one that got away
Categories:
tules, adventure, animals, life, nature,
Form: Rhyme
Marshy natives claims own bog
Changed in light paints in needle work
Space by space to lit hole in swampy darkness
Every shape thought is legitimate
As it hangs in a opening tree
In mystical ways the one and only flare
As branches in fierce bubled in naive land
Categories:
tules, nature,
Form: I do not know?