After about five or six years seriously working at this lark I finally
manage to produce a sonnet. There are those who are serial sonneteers on
here and I am in awe at heir skill. Tell me what you think.
FISHING, NOT FISHING
With the tide out on the estuary
both sides have drawn closer,
taunt for anglers, geese, seasoned loungers
in the sun. Each have a separate vestiary.
Their attention to water level
is much older than their passing moment,
with occasional attention to ambient
movement, though neither cares for dazzle.
Neither cares about being picturesque
or watches background colour or shade,
the Spey cast her would be burlesque -
what come naturally is done without aid.
Fish too avoid unsavoury arabesqu;
all distain, with perfect ease, the cliche'd.
bw
James
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