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FISHING PARTNER
The lowering sun upon my back
I quietly wade through shallows
for fly fishing, I have the knack
this evening as I fish with swallows
Strip the line in even strokes
then pick it up with strong back cast
careful to not snag shore line oaks
the day approaches darkening fast
Now lightly lay the line back down
placing feathered dry fly next to shore
concentration causes a happy frown
my mind on fishing, nothing more
A lone tern wades across the way
hunts and fishing for his food too
on this dying day in May
for him, 'bout anything will do
I twitch the lure beside a limb
hanging close to water's film
a sudden splash! I've hooked a bream
bring it to hand then release him
Eye detects motion 'cross way again
the tern just nabbed his daily meal
as crickets begin their late refrain
lending to all a peaceful feel
Another step makes water cloud
billows spread a few feet, no more
a pair of hawks screech high and proud
wood ducks lift from the weedy shore
Still my rod swings back and forth
a slim nine foot long metronome
Blue crane takes wing down to the north
ere long will come time to head for home
The moon now peeks through eastern trees
bull frog urge it's time to go
and store this trip among my memories
as mosquitoes dull humming grows
Comments
vexations10
Fri, 2011-06-03 22:22
Love that
first verse. Very rhythmic, solid. Verse two, do you need “then in line two?” Verse three ( do you need “now” in line one. My comments may not relate because you may be looking for a syllable count in each line. If not, I think these words are extraneous. Verse seven, change the first two words to (perhap) within (I hate the use of but in a poem) Could also consider dropping and in line three of the last verse. Otherwise I really like this. It is a poem about something akin to what Mary Oliver might write. You know your subject! and you write about it with authority and skill.
vexations
scribbler
Fri, 2011-06-03 22:30
Hello vex
I appreciate your reading and leaving such fine suggestions. I will probably use at least some of them in tomorrow's edit.I thank you also for kind comment.................stan
Nordic cloud
Sat, 2011-06-04 01:53
So delicately pastel,
So delicately pastel, pastoral and evocative of the evening dancing insects in the haze of sunshine, the sunshine of happiness, while concentrating on fishing at the same time; as, being still, you concentrate on every detail of what goes on around you Stan. We hear, see and smell the perfumes, the river, the flowers of evening that come to life for the moths at night, and we smile contentedly in the coming twilight.
As yet I have only experienced the whole.
Love to you and Happy fishing Stan.
from Ann.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
scribbler
Sat, 2011-06-04 08:15
hello
I've tried about every type fresh water fishing there is. Each has its own type enjoyment, but there's just something about fly fishing.........stan
scribbler
Sat, 2011-06-04 08:16
hi Ian
thank you.............stan
Geezer
Sat, 2011-06-04 17:53
The thought...
just occured to me, that you are like a Norman Rockwell of poetry. I can see in mind's eye, the scene so well described, that I feel that I have been there. Kudos, my friend. ~ Gee
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scribbler
Sat, 2011-06-04 17:59
Hi Geez
You will make me have to by new hats from head swelling lol. I am glad you enjoyed this...........stan
wesley snow
Sat, 2011-06-04 18:42
Hey Scribbler (or is it Southern...
One of my favorite things in literature (especially poetry) that a lot of people profess to just despise, is the use of "authentic" terminology. That for a few minutes, without absolutely understanding, I'm taken fly fishing...or sky diving...or sailing...or...
I would have enjoyed it even more if I'd been taken on a more comprehensive journey. Enough that, were I to remember, would allow me to "talk the talk" even if I could not "walk the walk".
Never having fished this offered a fleeting look into a sport who dozens of my friends nearly worship.
Maybe I should try something about riding?
This is a very "relaxing" poem.
wesley
W. H. Snow
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley
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scribbler
Sat, 2011-06-04 21:07
hi Wesley
I actually wrote 2 poems about fly fishing at the same time. It was at toss up which one to post here while other remains on paper. Guess the other will show up eventually ...............stan