I will tell you a story, but it's terribly short
I'm a fish in the *Wharfe that no-one has caught.
I travel along seeing so many places,
And through the brown water, I can see faces.
There are men on the banks, and that’s a bad sign.
Yes, one’s holding a rod, and attached is a line.
I’ve learnt it is wrong to take food from this source,
And I swim swiftly ahead, and ignore him, of course.
Through Ilkley and Otley and further downstream,
I swim over little rocks, polished and clean.
Under many stone bridges, past fields full of sheep,
I’m watching for humans; there’s no time to sleep.
They’ll not catch this fish today, that is for certain.
I’ll miss all their hooks and I’ll miss all their hurting.
So good luck to you humans. There’s no more to do
But to cling to the hope that you may catch a shoe.
No, it’s humans who’re stupid and fish who are smart.
You may think that you’re clever, but we’ll always dart
Into little dark crevices far, far from your eyes
For we’ll not be the fish that your fish lady fries.
* The River Wharfe flows through my home town in West Yorkshire.
Copyright on all my poems
Name 6 different fish that could be on your plate. Are they sea fish or river fish? Why is fish good for you?