In the East as the sky turns red
It’s time for me to leave my bed
To the shoreline I must away
And try my luck with the net today
A rod and a line are not for me
Fish leap with joy if these they see
So I’ve decided to use a net
But I still haven’t caught any yet
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When the pen takes control. 
Love it, Bobby. And are you a fisherman. But of course you are, I think you have said.
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I was a keen sea fisherman, but I gave up coarse fishing when I considered I may be causing pain to the fish, which a sport doesn’t justify
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I used to fish with my brother. I’d catch the live bait while he tried for the pike. End of day, one eep net full, no pikes. But this was long ago, we were still at school.
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Loved it, perfect, and that would be me if I were fishing.
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Lovely poem, Bobby!
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