A Morning with Shakespeare
Water flows the gradient
‘round logs, rocks and over stone
Trickling ’tween narrow passages
with poetic unadulterated tone
Undressed trees stand abreast
their wears litter the brook
In ambers, orange and yellows, they lay
in vibrant elegant look
Shakespeare and I dawn the morn
to pleasure ourselves before
this scenic piece of pleasant earth
'long cool waters and autumn shore
Like Cotton, Barker or Ritz
I now swing my timeworn fly-stick
In search of aquatic life within
this subtle forest crick
Fur and fiber sway beneath
a shadow appears below
I hook and play the foolish fish
Shakespeare and I retrieve the ‘bow’
We fish the morn in shallow water
in concealment and with ease
We’re justly rewarded by our patience
and thus justly pleased
The ‘brooks’ we land we cherish
from the quaint cool water drink
They are just as vibrant as
the leaves stacked upon the brink
As morn passes pleasantly
the fish be it known we're present
I cast one last, without a take
my Wonderod now silenced
As rays of sun filter softly
through firs that shade the banks
I turn my back from the gratifying affair
Upon quietly leaving, I give thanks
__~doubletaper
__~doubletaper
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