fishing…

this is a poem that i wrote when in Whitby this year, it’s about two people i know fishing at sandsend a small seaside village nearby. (one of them was disjointed rhymings dad!) this what I came up with when I was back at our holiday apartment!

Stood on the beach,
rod in his hand
waiting patiently
for a tug or a pull
SNAP, there goes his day
there, in the water
he hears them say
pulling out the line from the sea.

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