Fishing Hooks in Hidden Nooks

Stu Franks
Dec 3, 2018 · 2 min read

The lonely fisherman sat idle on his raft,
Comfort and composure engaging in his craft,
Reeling in occasional fruits from the water-bodied God,
He wrangled down inside himself and felt something odd,

For where there was passion there was also a loss,
For where his raft was strong there was also growing moss,
And this lonely fisherman found the source,

The accompanied fisherman sat shocked and still,
Conversation and companionship, no longer time to kill,
Fruitful hauls from the blue Goddess’ domain,
Forever in this moment is where he’d remain,

Only remain in his head as the tides had moved,
Only forever on this boat as history proved,
As the one from his two was removed,

The lost fisherman sat abashed and alone,
On this mossy raft that was once his throne,
Letting the offerings from the sea go,
As he resolved to himself, “No,
This raft is still here with me,
And so are the gifts from the glowing sea,
Just give me back my comfort and peace,
I lost my way searching for a release,
All I had was what I did share,
Once stripped back I felt so bare,
From this day forth I’ll not be so naive,
To let my lonely mind believe,
That I can let others on my little boat,
And expect it still to float”

Stu Franks

Written by

Professional IT Man | Amateur Comedy Boy | Recreational Poetry Soul | Follow me on twitter @StuFranks |

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