From the edge of the cold
windy lake,
you could see the lantern boats
paused over the water
Each one, was paused
over
a magic fishing hole
where Lady Luck, was thought to be
Excited voices, traversed
the weary mist
and kept you posted, where she was
swimming to
And silhouettes of jubilation, falsely sprung
upon the night
where turn by turn, She would visit
all the magic wells
in sight
And there, by shooting stars confirm
delivered smiles,
While roaring laughs confirmed
the ones, that got away
And wishes lost upon
the stars,
upon a windy day
When no one, caught a thing
~/~
to fishermen: magic fishing
sorry to get graphic about your beautiful poem
to fishermen: magic fishing holes
to the fishes:
anglers
stranglers
asphyxiaters
suffocaters
I remember this night when we took Eric's boat out on old mill pond that was a night I will never forget and you wrote it so well I still can see it clear us on the pond in that boat... we didn't catch a thing...
~Dan~
I like the way you concentrate your thoughts, instead of too many
unnecessary words. The lake setting of the poem is magical
too. Good job.
kat
this is magical, being an angler myself and lover of wild life and nature, your poem reminded me of the times ive spent..early morning mists on rivers and lakes etc.
well done.
Reminds me very much (and it is as splendid as) Wallace Stevens' great poem, The Idea of Order at Key West.
J-Called