Gone Fishing

He’d ventured out with his fishing gear

Before the breaking dawn,

Packed the bait in his four wheel drive

And backed it across the lawn,

He knew that he’d be the only one

At that time on the beach,

And maybe catch, with the early worm,

From the rocks along the breach.

 

He’d parked the Ranger, doused the lights

Before he looked to see,

The miles and miles of sand out there,

But no sign of the sea.

It must have been one of those funny tides

That receded out of sight,

There wasn’t a billow or breaking crest

Though the sea was there last night.

 

He climbed back into the Ranger then

And drove, while it was firm,

Way, way out, where the winter spray

Would freeze the air, in turn,

He must have driven a mile or more

But the sea was out of sight,

There were only deepening rock pools that

Were uncovered, overnight.

 

He stopped and parked by a monster pool

In the hopes there’d be a catch,

Long and deep where the fish would keep

Till the tide came rolling back.

He tossed his line with a baited hook

And it sank into the depths,

Until a flurry of water caught

His eye, and snagged his nets.

 

And then there rose to the surface such

A sight he’d never seen,

A pale and struggling girl with eyes

Of blue, and hair of green,

He hauled her in with his net until

Her strength began to fail,

And then he noticed that from her waist

Was a silver, fishes tail.

 

‘My god, you must be a mermaid,’ he

Exclaimed, but more in shock,

And she lay still and she stared at him

From a seaweed ledge of rock,

She didn’t struggle, she didn’t fight

But she held her arms up high,

As he gently lifted the mermaid up

And he swore he heard her sigh.

 

That was more than a year ago

And the sea’s back, as before,

But he is more of a stay-at-home

Won’t go fishing anymore.

He sits and plays by his covered pool

So the contents can’t be seen,

And frolics there with the tiny fish,

And all of their hair is green.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[ANTO]

Its just as well that you did move to the Aunty-poads David, for had you stayed in Blighty you would have had to write -
"...He climbed back into the Rover then"
because Rangers arent sold in the UK - which doesn't have the same ring to it. So your emigrating was serendipitous, for this poem. Britains loss though.

I hope Burt Lancaster (The Swimmer) doesn't start his lark in the back gardens with this delightful nursery in situ.

This is a wonderful treat from the bright side of DLP.
Thank you for sharing this my friend.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

O! This is just magnificent, and the ending is perfect. It's so nice, as always, to see you writing.

[Avinash]

That is quite a fairy tale ending to what had started as a suspense story. But tell you what ...I lost interest in mermaids since I realized the low chances to consummate such union :)

[Valentine]

Ah ha. You got me smiling and laughing with this write. Never did I expect him to be swimming with his little ones. Wonder where this great idea came from. Cute write, really good. Valentine