The Dish Twas Fish

Hook, line and swimmer

Said the sailor seated ashore

For the bait out flung deep

Did pull like fate’s damned tour

Twas a free floater

Twas a clam unchained

Twas health and hale

Twas–now, never the same


Yet while it was

So valiant it flopped

Though beyond the mare

Its strives ner did stop

Yet Fisher hearty did

with heave and hoe

Reeled the line stiff

Yankin the piscine foe


So to shore sent

Flew the fry to be gutted

Suspended as flame lent

Savory succulence encrusted

Hook, line and dinner

Remarked Fisher belly rotund

Twas ere a tasty delight

Twas–now, barely a burp resound

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