PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There lies a place I often seek,

but pack no hapless woe,

a place of tranquil majesty,

where crystal waters flow.



‘Neath canopies of shaded green,

and skies of azure blue,

a place that’s felt the kiss of God,

his heavenly purview.



‘Midst silence, save for nature’s cry,

and breeze’s soft embrace,

the creek bed whispers, calls my name,

to wade it’s placid grace.



This solitary fisherman,

with resolute intent,

pursues a brooks elusive meed,

untroubled, calm, content.



Dark shadows dart ‘neath placid pools,

to feed on goss’mer prey,

and break the tranquil surface glass,

in swirling finned ballet.



The mayfly’s flight, forever stilled,

by trout in dimpled rise,

a feast for speckled denizens,

the peckish Brownie’s prize.



With likeness formed from tufts of hair,

and feathered bits that flash,

then tied on slender wisps of line,

to fling with ne’er a splash,



and tempt the fishes gluttony,

outwit the Brownie’s eye,

amid that gauzed winged jitterbug,

this drifted pseudo fly.



Cast far upstream, ‘midst rapid’s froth,

to bab’ling waters head,

My tufted bait, in gentle arch,

bound tight to leader’s thread.



A drifting, tumbling, quick descent,

‘round whirlpools churning spray,

’tween moss topped rocks and slippery crags,

in search of speckled prey.



With perfect drift ‘pon placid pools,

‘midst swarms in maiden flight,

I’ll coax the cunning fattened trout,

and whet it’s appetite.



A swirling strike, an agile flash,

the hook quite firmly set,

this dance ‘tween angler, fish and rod,

a midstream minuet.



A tug, a shake, a lengthy run,

the fly reels singing whine,

one graceful leap to shed his prize,

on tethered threads of line.



Such careful, practiced, tiptoed grace,

this dance ’pon rock strewn bed,

two choices; follow down yon stream,

or lead the fish ahead.



A simple waltz ‘tween man and trout,

in careful well timed step,

‘midst Heaven’s tranquil majesty,

serenity’s vignette.



He tires quick, surrendering,

a fishes unknown fate,

the fattened Brown, in speckled hues,

deceived with feathered bait.



My finny friend, that worthy foe,

I’ve freed for one more chance,

released to swim ‘neath placid pools,

where once again, he’ll dance.



I visit oft’, this place I‘ve sought,

and packed no hapless woe,

‘neath canopies of shaded green,

where crystal waters flow.