Fishing
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I am by Christopher White
I am a fisherman with a rod
I hear the water beating the soft rocks that lie in streams
I fell in love by the shore.
Nose wide open.
In a cool curve I felt a ripple of bliss.
Through my eyes I followed every motion.
Every gleam that shown through vibrant hue.
The echo of true loves kiss.
Wether it is camping or fishing I'm all in.
Nature for me is all the matters.
Being near to mother nature and getting to know myself.
I wouldn't be the same without her.
They yank on their skates,
criss-cross the laces and
tug on my hand with stubby fingers.
The ice is thick and crusted with
white chips
Pondscum and cattails are hidden
under the marbled crust
Here in the Venice lounge we have no lagoonswe have no gondolas, mountains and lakes are plentythey silver Sunday afternoons framed by green grassit rises up towards Placid, where the snow caps into June.
The sound of a river flowing ferociously-
water washing the side of the rock we sit on.
The wind rustles through the brush,
bringing cool morning air with it.
It's nearly six a.m.
Looking over,
The air is still
The water laps
The fish bite slowly at first
Nibbling, nibbbling and then
STRIKE!
The reel zings,
the fish zags
The line is taut
Two formidable foes
There is a place inside my dreams, I see you standing there. Your beauty captivates me, the sun shining in your hair. Another day of fishing, the pole becomes your hand. All I can do is smile cause I am the one who understands.
A warm summer day built to the past.
Rising mist, lifting air and whistling sounds.
Days at school not to hold the last?
No heavy breathing, no heart that pounds.
Young men sit
under an indigo sky
patient.
Poles extend over water
meanwhile
The first fisherman stops
over taken in thought
for in his haste he has neglected his eyes.
On the street,
people turn around to look at me.
Not because I'm a muscle stud that a thirsty girl would love to meet,
but a man with a crazy personality and an addiction to bowling and sweet tea.
Unlike sweet tea,
At the midpoint
Of a high meandering brook
Flicks the tail of a brook trout.
The lithe tail curves
In the still cool shade of the shelter of the bank
It's a beautiful day at the lake
Waitng for the fish to take my bait
wether it be big or it be little
I'm Me for a few reasons
to be the one who loves all four seasons
I'm either in the mountains or in the flint hills
fishing or biking, whatever gives me the most thrills
I'm with my dad with a gun in my hands
Down by the river
in the holly hocks,
two kids open an old tin box.
They swing their poles
and string their hooks
all in the noon-day heat.
But the only bites
they get all day
Wherever I am,
As long as I’m out,
Over the blue waters I go
To catch some trout.
But never after a full moon.
That’s when they have their feasts.
With the moonlight shining over the water,
Out into the woods I walk
I dont even dare to talk
As I hear the sound of a duck
I look around only to see a nice eight-point buck
And as I feel the old worn bark of an oak
TO FISH OR NOT TO FISH?
That is the question…
Every redneck as himself on Saturday morning when its not,
I repeat;
Because this is important.
It cannot be hunting season.
That will trump everything.
What's UNDER the ARMOUR?
What's inside the shell?
What stirs up the STORM?
What causes the swell?
When times get tough,
Do I run and then hide?
Or do I stand up and fight,
Four grainy timber walls
Topped by a nondescript brown roof.
Physically utilitarian, recreational in purpose.
An ice fishing shack.
It is a perfect convenience
po'dunk, koho, salmon fishing is here,
getting excited and happy to go.
calm river, fall leaves, hiking down the one big hill.
dressed all in camo, ready to go.
waiting for one more thing though.
My desire to fish burns deep from inside,
I can not stand to be away from the ocean.
And every time I see water I get the notion,
To head to the dock where from the world, I can hide.
It was just before dawn as I strolled through the fog
to discover the one that I sought resting on a log.
Through the mist and early light I struggled to see
as the man stood up and slowly turned to me.
From the Deep it rises
I catch my breath for it surprises
me when I see
it a hundred feet below me
It's scales shining in the water
like a knight in shining amor.
It gets closer as I reel.
If I just had one wish
It would be to fish
With you by my side
Just watching the ocean's tide
