Tag Archives: #Fish

About Fish!

About Fish!

They said

that I should read

a poem about


I wish, I wish

that I had ever written

a poem about a fish;

upon my dish

or swimming in the sea,

swimming up to me

telling tall tales

of Davy Jones’ Locker

and rare white whales.

So, where do I begin?

Sardines in a tin?


There is a difference between the two – if only we knew.

I think


when a salmon is in the pink

it should be left to do what salmon do;

swim the sea to Wollamaloo

or Timbuctu –

isn’t that what salmon do.

As you can see

I don’t know that much about fish

in the sea;

but, here’s the rub…


know even less

about me!


Herbert the Turbot

Herbert the Turbot

Herbert the Turbot

was very, very sad;

because he had never ever

been a character in a poem

or a story

until, one day…

“When is a Pilchard?”

“When is a Pilchard?”

“When is a Pilchard?”

When is a Pilchard not a Sardine?

When is a Herring a kipper?

When is a Cod not a present from God?

Should I ask me a fishing-boat skipper?

And what are Bloaters and Bucklings?

What is this fish that I see?

And why is it swimming off sideways,

has it some Crab in It’s fish ancestry?

Is there a place where good fishes do go?

To waggle their fins when they’re weary,

Do they head off to school?

Do they know about snow?

Do they call other fishes ‘my deary?’

When they swim in the sea,

do they think about me,

and write poems on beings with legs?

Do they sing of our ways,

as upon us they gaze?

an answer to these question begs.

“How goes the day? Swimmingly?”

When a Haddock is just not enough!

When a haddock is just not enough!

Never mind Haiku

I really want a Haddock

Just the one Haddock.

Not a whole ocean of them

That would be too much fun

No, just an individual

Swimming about

I’d name her Fanny

Without a doubt

But I wouldn’t want her in my kitchen

Or anybody else’s

She should just swim in her seas

Can I have a Haddock


Goldfish in a Bowl


Me: I called my fish Jeckyl and Hyde. They are both the same

You: Then, how can you tell which one is which?

Me: There is only one.

You: Ah! That explains the wire mesh on the top of the bowl.

Me: Exactly.


The Speckled Trout


I almost wrote about

the Speckled Trout

but, I didn’t.

thinking about it

i feel a little mean

i mean, i could have

written about the Speckled Trout

but didn’t

(this was when I first thought about doing so

six weeks ago)

and now I don’t know what I was going to say

sonetimes things happen that way.



Tales of Failed Dinner Parties #1


Wrong Plaice!
Wrong Thyme!

Which is the simple explanation as to why the fish supper meal that I had prepared for my friends went so badly.