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Trout by Steven Kinsella - Contents - Contact Me - Tip Jar - RSS



Alive I am, spoke the trout
And will remain I have no doubt
Unless of this stream, I am pulled out

While from up on high a crow did see
The cautious approach of mi da an’ me
For this day we fancied fish for tea

Be-rodded and lured with hook-eyed fly
We cast our hope in the reflected sky
But neither luck nor skill could we come by

Down to trout called his friend crow
And around us we heard a clamour grow
As oft it will where man dares go

Within the wash the trout were hid
No hint, no trace, water smooth as coffin lid
We hunters beaten by their co-operative id

Then the trout from hiding re-appeared
Though relief at escape was barely neared
When sudden, by eagle claw, was it speared

So on chance does nature turn
Even if for order you may yearn
And that, from this tale, may you learn