the crow and the ravens
are very good friends
the cawing of their gizzards
meets to no ends
sleek and shiny are their feathers
and as the green grass snake slithers
catching and munching bugs from the field
an apple from a tree he picked and peeled
this is a fine night for fishing
drop the line in ploop hes a wishing
its very late and all is peaceful
a nibble a bite waiting now pull
great big eel good for the next meal
now surmising the suns arising
glory glory be
good morning
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Author:
onepauly (
Offline) - Published: July 5th, 2017 14:03
- Comment from author about the poem: one night in the summertime
- Category: Nature
- Views: 52
Offline)
Comments3
Thank you for paying respect to the food.
Really enjoyed that, made me miss fishing days for a bit.
eels are a bit greasy to cook but they are something to eat.
Paul, only you could make night fishing that exciting! Now try writing about ice fishing!
easier done then said. no I don't have it backwards. I like your exclamation points. they give your comment character. and I've been ice fishing the only negative part is, cold toes!
I used to go ice fishing in Canada. Never caught a fish, but got drunk every time to keep the cold away! (And here is your exclamation point!!!!)
I used to be a heavy drinker. even out on the ice. my toes were on the point of frostbite. right now I'm reading about a mountain climbing expedition. I've a few pages to go, but I think some of them are going to lose their fingers and their toes. those people are crazy in there own way!
I really like your poem. So sweet talking about nature. I today was outside cleaning the roses from the weed and because I was not doing much work there the weds were tall and a snake was there. I try to respect them but not be afraid. She left as soon as I got closer. They still gives me some chill though.
in my early 20's I lived in a tent in the woods. two times, the whole summers. I had no income at all except what I could do living off the land. fishing was a big part of it. I also had a garden 15 feet from my tent. I had to find a secluded clearing in the forest. so people couldn't find my camp. I collected all kinds of scrap metal to sell to the junk man. on my bicycle I toured the streets. and its true you can find gold in the streets in America! may the force be with you.
Just your story could be making gold. Write it. Like a book. I don't know any other person that lived like you.
you have given me something to meditate upon. its a great idea. thank you. ill send you my first edition.
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