It was Sunday morning
When he got reminded that
They need fish for
The dinner that night.
He hurried, as he got done
With his Sunday morning chores.
And at the first minute of the noon,
He accelerated his drive
With all the fancy pins and hooks,
To get the dinner’s delight.
The wife and kids,
Got the home more pretty,
Lights more apt,
And curtains more colourful.
For the evening had a lot more
In store
For the vibes
And others’ wives.
Everything was ready,
Every napkin was in place.
Except for the fish
Which was caught,
Yet not caught.
It loved the fancy hook,
And got time to flirt,
Play and unhook it too.
What’s more?
It peeped out,
Laughed,
Swum,
And clapped its fins together.
‘Cos who’d came to take it to,
Was deep lost in fathoms
Of his dreams
And so sound that you’d
Love to fall in that too.
Everything was ready,
The lights were dim,
Fire was kindled.
Women were whispering their envious hearts out,
For the home looked pretty,
And the curtains, so very true,
To the theme of dawn,
Setting in the sky.
But what they knew not
Was that the fish was still n’t in place.
Every one panicked,
Turning their eyes
On the door,
At the way,
With the binoculars,
Even at the bay.
While the mother,
Knew it all,
But instilled a little more,
So she
Kept saying,
Let him leave the shore.
