A fisherman's taleA Poem by BeccyIt seemed the little fish could hardly swim; I thought his back (if fish had such,) was maybe broke and felt so very sad for him. For upstream I knew there lurked a Pike of fearsome manner, deadly bite! And this poor helpless little thing, so slender, passive in his look, might perish in this sylvan brook. So thus a lure I swiftly cast, (designed for fishes swimming past), then patient set myself in wait to see if he would take the bait. But Oh! That artful little fish escaped in one balletic swish, then swift along the brookstream's flow he ventured where no fish should go ; straight to the jaws of that old Pike and perished in one deadly strike! But I accept 'tis nature's way that predator and natural prey, all have their place, their part to play, and I most willingly concede that God's design has greatest need. Still, foolish heart will rule the head and many a tear that day I shed ; For I could not escape a wish that I had hooked the little fish ~ and denied old Pike his tasty dish.
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17 Reviews Added on October 22, 2014 Last Updated on May 10, 2020 AuthorBeccyUnited KingdomAboutI'm forty four, single and have a lovely fifteen year old son called Charlie. I've been writing poetry and short stories since I can remember. I have always been an assiduous reader of poetry and real.. more..Writing
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