Something different for the holidays. I was trying to articulate something and it came out like this
It’s early evening, moody and warm,
Low level martins are dodging and darting.
I’m Watching,
Waiting,
For the hatch to be starting.
Lost in my wonder, a season of thoughts,
Ephemeral dancers sparkle with light.
A dimple,
Intriguing.
I’m early tonight.
The weather’s relaxing,
Rendered by thunder,
A dimple,
Again.
Can’t help but wonder.
Fly soup at the bank,
Just drifting, a quiver,
A dimple,
Another,
A tail splits the river.
The water is nervous,
Charged up with life.
Prone Spinners,
Trapped duns,
Small sedges are rife.
Am I missing a trick,
Big fish need to feed,
Do they just wait?
Perhaps,
Soup’s what they need.
After watching a while,
With tiny sedge pupa,
A dimple.
A cast.
A bonny fish souper.
Another one beckons,
It’s showing a tail,
A dimple.
Some casts.
Shunned, this time a fail.
Perhaps it’s a spent,
In Orange or cream.
A Dimple.
It’s simple.
I’m living my dream.
Repeated procedure for several weeks,
A season of dimples, serious gold.
Make evenings,
Much longer,
Than I would have told.
Perhaps one out of three,
Can really be strong.
A dimple.
It seems,
Is where I’ve been wrong.
Ignore at your peril,
That starter of gloop.
A dimple.
It’s simple.
There’s a fly in my soup.
