The Quiet Sport

[Poppy]

Hello, I thought I'd introduce myself with this:

The Quiet Sport

Early sunlight casts a candle glow as it
meets the morning mist and fog.
I gently tip toe in shallow water as to not
disturb the still sleeping residents.

In my hand light bamboo caresses silk and gut,
at the end fur and feathers are tied.
I hope to mimic perfectly a morsel
that my prey might desire.

Squinting to find the perfect lie, a ripple,
a seam, a place they call home.
I know they are there, I see the dimples,
I see the swirls.

This will require the perfect cast to
lay the line and fly above.
I feel the cane flex into its butt, as line
shoots to the spot I hoped.

Mending helps the tiny imitator begin its
drift to where breakfast will be served.
I eye the bug, I see the rise, I notice the splash
I feel the tug having felt it before.

In an instant the acrobatics begin, a shining
figure in the spray and lifting fog.
I fight the first run with little effort as I have
outwitted it just this time.

Now for the real pleasure, the instant when
it comes to hand for admiration.
I hold it gently, reflecting on past pursuits
then slowly, easily, say goodbye.


Hope everone enjoys. Glad to be here.

[ampoule]

Hope everone enjoys. Glad to be here.

I enjoyed. I enjoyed. Welcome.

[motherhubbard]

What a wonderful poem. I want to go fishing now! I can't wait to see what else you have to say.

[CdnReader]

Lovely, Poppy. Welcome. :)

[Granny5]

Hello, I thought I'd introduce myself with this:

The Quiet Sport

Early sunlight casts a candle glow as it
meets the morning mist and fog.
I gently tip toe in shallow water as to not
disturb the still sleeping residents.

In my hand light bamboo caresses silk and gut,
at the end fur and feathers are tied.
I hope to mimic perfectly a morsel
that my prey might desire.

Squinting to find the perfect lie, a ripple,
a seam, a place they call home.
I know they are there, I see the dimples,
I see the swirls.

This will require the perfect cast to
lay the line and fly above.
I feel the cane flex into its butt, as line
shoots to the spot I hoped.

Mending helps the tiny imitator begin its
drift to where breakfast will be served.
I eye the bug, I see the rise, I notice the splash
I feel the tug having felt it before.

In an instant the acrobatics begin, a shining
figure in the spray and lifting fog.
I fight the first run with little effort as I have
outwitted it just this time.

Now for the real pleasure, the instant when
it comes to hand for admiration.
I hold it gently, reflecting on past pursuits
then slowly, easily, say goodbye.


Hope everone enjoys. Glad to be here.

Nice poem, Poppy. You've descibed the quietness and challenge of fly fishing.
I catch and release too.

[motherhubbard]

your poem ends with goodbye, and it's kind of sad to me.

You know, you could keep one for dinner, or two even. I can clean them and cook them right up!

[Granny5]

Last time you caught a trout, you wouldn't eat it remember???

[motherhubbard]

I was ten and it had been looking at me all day. Now I raise animals just to eat them. Things have changed.

[firefangled]

Now for the real pleasure, the instant when
it comes to hand for admiration.
I hold it gently, reflecting on past pursuits
then slowly, easily, say goodbye.



Hello, Poppy. As one fly fisherman to another, a river runs through this one. You could not have written a better description.

Yes, releases are a thing of beauty.

I hope before I die
that one turns in the release
and pauses, eye to eye,
as if to say I know you.

[Pendragon]

Always ready and willing to read and welcome new talent. Lovely poem. I like the fishing but must admit I give away the trout as they are one type of fish I cannot stand to eat. But grab and pole and let's go fishing!

Pen

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Fish.gif

[Poppy]

.

I hope before I die
that one turns in the release
and pauses, eye to eye,
as if to say I know you.

Absolutely, I have often wished one would
just wink at me.

[Poppy]

Thanks to everyone for the nice remarks. I was afraid the subject might have been too specilized and not draw interest.

[Virgil]

Poppy, I enjoyed this too. A little rough in spots, but it really made me feel like I was there. Welcome to lit net, by the way. Hope you stick around and post more poems.

[Poppy]

Poppy, I enjoyed this too. A little rough in spots, but it really made me feel like I was there. Welcome to lit net, by the way. Hope you stick around and post more poems.

Thanks Virgil, any help would be appreciated. I am not new to fly fishing, but I certainly am a novice at writing about it.

[Virgil]

Thanks Virgil, any help would be appreciated. I am not new to fly fishing, but I certainly am a novice at writing about it.

You, know Poppy, after read it again, I'm not sure there is a rough spot, or anything I would change. I particularly like this stanza:


Squinting to find the perfect lie, a ripple,
a seam, a place they call home.
I know they are there, I see the dimples,
I see the swirls.

[Poppy]

You, know Poppy, after read it again, I'm not sure there is a rough spot, or anything I would change. :

Thank you again, but I sort of feel there are some timing issues that I would have no idea how to correct.