Fish Play Poem by Alan Bruce Thompson

Fish Play



It’s a quiet day, mild wind along the shore,
The fish swim near the surface, the birds come back for more.
The sea has no smell here, no rampant seaweed,
Is it the wrong kind of rocks beneath, or no nutrients they need.

A fishing boat comes close to the beach,
Dragging their net inshore, the fish are in reach.
Then there is a wrenching sound,
The zealous fishers have run aground.

As the fishers run for their lifeboats,
The escaping fish don’t need the rising floats.
The fleeing catch survives for another day,
But maybe the fishers don’t like fish play.

Friday, May 9, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: fish,life,sea
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Colleen Courtney 09 May 2014

A numerous write! You write creating great imagery!

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Alan Bruce Thompson

Alan Bruce Thompson

Newcastle upon Tyne, United Kingdom
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