Wednesday, 23 October 2013

FISHING

I was lucky enough to pick up a Highly Commended in the 2013 Ipswich Poetry Feast with this poem - not bad considering I know nothing about fishing.






FISHING  -   © Maureen Clifford The Scribbly Bark Poet


On the outgoing tide the boat rocked lazily.
He recalled there were plenty of fish in the sea.
He watched swooping seagulls dive bombing the ocean,
as his kids built sand castles .  Had they a notion
of their Gramp’s philosophy ? ‘When you’re in strife
just remember the pebbles on  beaches of life.’

A bright flash of light quickly drew his attention
to cliff hangers climbing,  defying convention
in their struggle upward ’cross cliff faces  steep,
 their safety dependent on thin ropes to keep
them from plummeting downwards to sharp rocks below
but quite fearless, not once did they  falter or slow.

He sat quietly pondering the life that he’d led
It had been pretty good.  It was like Dad had said.
‘You come in with the tide and you go with the flow,
and you help where you can – for you never will know
if one day you’ll need saving  and hands will reach out,
so don’t you be lazy, share your help about.

In the good book it tells us we reap what we sow
and if we sow dissension then we harvest blows
but to sow seeds of kindness, compassion and love
brings a bounty of blessings for sure from above.’
He looked to the heavens - “I remember indeed.
Dad I’d best get back fishing, there’s people to feed.”



Maureen Clifford © 
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