Come little fish

a poem by Linda Bates Terrell, USA

Come little fish in our brook

Wiggling squirming, flopping,
pulling, swimming away,
seeking survival on your last day,

Come little fish in yonder brook

Jumping, hiding, defying,
as I pull in line,
of strong nylon twine.

Come little fish on my hook

You pull in fight,
I see you above the water in flight,
Flop your keester in my boat,
I'll pull that hook from your throat.

Come little fish by hook or crook

To be my frying pan delight,
This day, you I invite.

Yummmmm little fish I cook.
from yonder brook,
yummmmm you taste better than a rook.

Linda B Terrell

Most all kids like to go fishing.

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