.4. Fair Share Poem by David Threadgold

Flocking seagulls fly above, a trawler winching net
Squealing ropes upon the wheels, the jobs not over yet
Men in yellow oilskins, fight hard to land their catch
The skipper seems so confident, and opens up the hatch

Arising from the seabed, they hope to reach their goal
At least three ton of pilchard, from an underwater shoal
They’d tracked it on the sonar, being careful not to rush
Before they sail back into port, this now their final push

With water thrown on pulleys, to cool the burning rope
Nets slowly rising from the deep, all they can do is hope
Engines pulling madly, they hope the ropes will hold
Big catches mean big wages or so they’ve all been told

All noise is now increasing, with screams becoming manic
The catch begins to surface, and the seagulls start to panic
Diving at the pilchard, a meal they get for free
The rest fills up the tiny boat, now going home for tea

© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes