The First Fishing Trip Poem by Warren Brown

The hunter gatherer instinct is overtaking
Fishing, I'm on about, I yearn to catch my own
I have a marvellous tome advising on the making
Of the necessary skills that aren't home grown.

The smell of the seaside, the salty seaside air
Aahh! How romantic! Reeling in the big ones
The joy of scaling and filleting, preparing the fare!
A stubbie for my troubles and fish for Grandma's oven

I've had the gear for many years but its all rusty now
Had to throw some out and buy some new stuff in
Been swatting on the "bible" to fix my lack of "knowhow"
It talks of running sinkers and hooks, collated in a tin.

It talks of lots more things that I don't understand
Of currents and tides and weeds and other watery stuff
I reckon if I catch a fish a diploma would be grand!
But can't go out and fish today, the water's far too rough!