Brilliant!

Kevin, that was great!

Rreally enjoyed it. Nice to have something different.

Janet

Yes, thank you Kevin, good stuff, not too sure about some of the rhymes but you can't have everything - a point proven by your camera and scales!!

Thanks Kevin,I enjoyed that.

There has been some great poems about fish and fishing many by the late Ted Hughes who was a keen fisherman.This is my favourite.

PIKE


Pike, three inches long, perfect
Pike in all parts, green tigering the gold.
Killers from the egg: the malevolent aged grin.
They dance on the surface among the flies.

Or move, stunned by their own grandeur,
Over a bed of emerald, silhouette
Of submarine delicacy and horror.
A hundred feet long in their world.

In ponds, under the heat-struck lily pads-
Gloom of their stillness:
Logged on last year's black leaves, watching upwards.
Or hung in an amber cavern of weeds

The jaws' hooked clamp and fangs
Not to be changed at this date:
A life subdued to its instrument;
The gills kneading quietly, and the pectorals.

Three we kept behind glass,
Jungled in weed: three inches, four,
And four and a half: red fry to them-
Suddenly there were two. Finally one

With a sag belly and the grin it was born with.
And indeed they spare nobody.
Two, six pounds each, over two feet long
High and dry and dead in the willow-herb-

One jammed past its gills down the other's gullet:
The outside eye stared: as a vice locks-
The same iron in this eye
Though its film shrank in death.

A pond I fished, fifty yards across,
Whose lilies and muscular tench
Had outlasted every visible stone
Of the monastery that planted them-

Stilled legendary depth:
It was as deep as England. It held
Pike too immense to stir, so immense and old
That past nightfall I dared not cast

But silently cast and fished
With the hair frozen on my head
For what might move, for what eye might move.
The still splashes on the dark pond,

Owls hushing the floating woods
Frail on my ear against the dream
Darkness beneath night's darkness had freed,
That rose slowly toward me, watching.

Ted Hughes

Janet

Thanks, different is what I try to do every week. Hold on, if I do the same thing every week that's not different, is it......!

John

I'm even less sure about the rhymes, and I wrote it! The Poet Laureate's job is still out of my reach, I fear

Nigel

Great poem. The ability to create images through descriptive writing like that is a skill I truly envy. It's certainly a skill you have to be lucky enough to be born with, I don't think it can be learned

Hang on a minute, replies from Janet and John - Hmmm.............!

A really great poem Kevin ,which I can relate to (except to the last verse when a biggy is caught ) doh !

Nice one Kevin. Yet to stub my toe on a teddy.
I find frozen bait never thaws out in the frost. Doh.

Excellent Kevin. Have you sold all your gear on ebay yet?

Yet another excellent article Kev keep it up!! (",)

John

You've fished next to me on a number of occasions, and therefore you have seen the state of my gear. It will cost me more to list it on eBay than I will ever get from selling it, so it looks like I'm stuck with it for now.

That means I'll just have to keep on fishing, I suppose.....!

Niiiiiiiiice!

Nice piece Kevin


Hi Janet