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Image for the poem Angling

Angling

Alongside, a cast away
patiently reeling, with hat adorned
fishes that odd, old fellow
from the reserve....

Multiple lines below the surface
landed at a distance
determined by my gear

State-of-the-art equipment
recently purchased
hoping schools appear

I had returned his approaching wave
darkness soon would be the day
unconquered nibbles mourned

Peacefulness dominated
leaves red, and golden yellow
save the spinning of his reel

He expertly timed a hit
testing rod strength, and flex
I reeled in, in awe, and waited

Astounded by the measure
held out at a kneel
for a novice to inspect

I called, "Whadja use?"
he stood up, upon hearing
after burdening his laden stringer

Beaming timeless pleasure
rested his hands, to my quering
on his head, and heart
for clues


Written by Mastersensation (Pent)
Published
Author's Note
By Pent
Aug 24th, 2021

Written because of the poet that submitted 'When poetry was an art', in a comp.
I wanted to thank them for solving an issue that's been nagging my conscience.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.

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