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Poems On / About FISHING  5/27/2015 4:27:32 AM
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Best Poems About / On FISHING
 
 
 
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  93.     

On An April Evening In The Fall

With folded wings the fishing gannets plunge into the sea
And the nuggety old man with fishing rod was waiting patiently
For a fish to bite as the incoming waves splashed quite close to his feet
And each new wave it came surging in as each old wave did retreat.

Have you been catching many fish today? of the fisherman I inquired
Not been doing too well today mate the old fellow replied
I've yet to catch a fish today, sometimes in the rising tide
From cover they don't venture out between the rocks they hide.

I'll stay another hour he said at least until twilight
The wife would like a good sized fish to cook for tea tonight
Still I don't like my chances much it's a quarter after four
I'll stay till a quarter after five and not one second more

The silver gulls cry on the beach the angry ocean roar
The gannets fishing on the bay, the old man from the shore
And people walking on the beach before their evening tea
On a sunny evening in April in the Fall by the Pacific sea.
 
Francis Duggan

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  94.     

The Fishers

The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And before the sun comes out the sky looks gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are off fishing
They left quite early at the break of day.

They tow their boat to the ramp at San Remo
But only on a calm and windless day
And within sight of land they dropp their anchor
Where the fish might be schooling on the quiet bay.

For them a pleasant way to spend their morning
To fish with rods and lines from boat for three hours or four
Especially when the hungry fish are biting
A good morning's catch some twenty fish or more.

The gentle waves against the boat keep lapping
And the sun breaks through the clouds just after nine
It must be soothing for the nerves and pleasant
To sit and relax and fish in the sun shine.

The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And the sun at nine shines through the clouds of gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are out fishing
In their boat anchored on San Remo bay
 
Francis Duggan

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  95.     

Nothing To Tell, Begin With A Mermaid Story

Accept the fact
The fear that you have nothing to tell anymore
To amuse yourself

writers' block, shutting up, windows closing,
doors locked, mind shrinking,


like the fish vendor who sells rumors & rotten stories
To the streets
You go to the fish market today
Not buying any fish or selling any or even touching gills
so you can breathe

You’re looking for some
Salt
Taking notes of the fish scales discarded
Trashed
Some fish bones & broken fins

some fishermen catching
Broken hearts on their small eyed nets

You go back with fish fins
And fish tails, thicked lippes and round moving eyes

You will start with a mermaid story today.
 
RIC S. BASTASA

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  96.     

440

Accept the fact
The fear that you have nothing to tell anymore
To amuse yourself

writers' block, shutting up, windows closing,
doors locked, mind shrinking,


like the fish vendor who sells rumors & rotten stories
To the streets
You go to the fish market today
Not buying any fish or selling any or even touching gills
so you can breathe

You’re looking for some
Salt
Taking notes of the fish scales discarded
Trashed
Some fish bones & broken fins

some fishermen catching
Broken hearts on their small eyed nets

You go back with fish fins
And fish tails, thick lips and round moving eyes

You will start with a mermaid story today.
 
RIC S. BASTASA

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Poems On / About FISHING