Maybe it is just those prepared cuttlefish snacks, but I am in the mood for fish.
‘Midst the seaweeds and sponges and corals
Live the cephalopods; and their quarrels
Will come, often, to blows–
A behavior which shows
A deplorable absence of morals!
A grey-haired and bearded signore
With a snorkel and mask, took a foray
To a reef, but gave flight
When his toe felt a bite–
But as everyone knows, that’s a Moray
Now a squid has a bite, but the truth is,
There’s a beak where you’d think that a tooth is
I suppose that won’t matter
If you’re on the platter–
A snack for a great Architeuthis!
I may add more later, but I have to get going–places to go, things to do! Uncharacteristic of Fridays for me…
Have fun!
This is a tough one!No fishing this year, and the reasonIs that this is the worst ever seasonI’ll be cutting down on salmon,Might have to switch to gammon,Which ’round these parts is almost like treason.(Inspired by this story on the CBC)
I’ll try a classic template…There was a young man who liked fish.From a genie he once got a wish:No, this isn’t the oneWhere the wife spoils the fun:He grew a long tail that went swishAnd then he and a crabby crustacean(Oh, “crusty”‘s bad imagination)Who rode in a potSaved the world from a spotOf Nazi-ish bomb detonation!
My muse, it fails me (It never does succeed except with the occasional haiku). And my knowledge of fish.
Fish FridayMy smarts ‘bout fish stuff’s darn de-fish-ent.I never did have skills proficientTo telling the tale of fish and of whale,So glad you’re (‘bout fish things) omniscient.My briny deep knowledge is lacking.I know not how squid beaks a-clacking,Could put snacks on their plates, or attract them some mates,Or just squid dates, who go ‘round off-jacking,Oh bother! No matter how struggleyI try to make fish seem all snuggley,A mess I am making of this undertaking.Toodaloo, ‘cause this poem’s just ugly!