Commemorative FF@ Poetry

Yes, sometimes the poetry has a point, for better or worse. Here are a few that were done for special occasions. Doesn't make the poetry good, but at least it was well-motivated.

Andrew Nix got himself married recently, and the commemorating was relentless:

From: John W. James
Subject: Re: Drew's Wedding Ku

Wedding bells pealing,
The mighty tree has fallen.
Practice now: "Yes, dear."

From: Chris Knight
Subject: Re: Drew's Wedding Ku

Might as well get my licks in too, eh? 8^)

happens so often
bachelorhood completely
wasted on clueless

From: Claude Freaner
Subject: More On Drew's Wedding...

Oh, wow, you don't know how much I had to strain to resist commenting further on the subject line...

In keeping with a great FF@ tradition [sic] , here's a bit more on Drew's forthcoming wedding...

Only four more days left for Drew
Until he learns it's really true:
A ring in his nose,
He'll sing of his woes,
'Cause Bachelor fun will be all through!

From: Blake Werner
Subject: Re: More On Drew's Wedding...

misty quiet dawns
glory evenings on the creek
past is forgotten

it will be ok
life will become differnet
buy a new rod now

From: Claude Freaner
Subject: Re: More on Drew's Wedding...

Wedding colors: white, pink, pale blue.
And lots of yellow flowers, too.
Dressed up in his tux,
Like a million bucks.
Will Drew make it, without his chew?

From: Jim Woolacott
Subject: Re: More On Drew's Wedding...

drew, cancel the banns
bachelorhood too precious
ball and chain affixed

From: Cheryl Gaumer (soon to be) Nix
Subject: More On Drew's Wedding...

I thought I might get in on the "busting on Drew" fun:

I think as the Big Day draws nigh
I must be on something and high
Me marry Drew
I must be unglued
Most people are just asking why

From: Claude Freaner
Subject: The countdown continues...

Only three days left, Drew my friend
Until your ways, you'll have to mend.
There'll be no more beer
Or flyfishing gear,
And your truck on permanent lend.

From: Claude Freaner
Subject: The countdown continues...

The days dwindle down to just two,
Then freedom is gone for our Drew.
His fishing may decrease
So he can keep the peace;
That's what happens after "I do!"

From: Blake Werner
Subject: Re: The countdown continues...

according to you it's now one
then drew gets new kinds of fun
we hope he don't whine
it'll turn out just fine
cept his fish'n for now may be done

From: Claude Freaner
Subject: The countdown continues...

Drew: you only have one more day,
So, make it a good one, Ok?
You should not fear,
Just say "Yes, dear...".
You'll learn soon that is the best way.

From: Tom Fry
Subject: Re: Drew's Wedding Ku

last week of freedom
hard to cast with ring in nose
makes a good zinger

The next three entries welcomed an (un)dignitary in the world of flyfish cartooning, Gene Trump, to the flyfish list:

From: Claude Freaner
Subject: Welcome, Gene Trump

Ok, Gene,
Here's your baptism:

There was a fly fisherman named Trump,
Who into the FF@list did jump.
Your cartoons are real nice;
To our lives they add spice,
So, To our poetry please don't Harrumph!

Ok, Chris, I did the limerick - you can do the haiku!

From: Chris Knight
Subject: Welcome, Gene Trump

Brother Claude says:

>Ok, Chris, I did the limerick - you can do the haiku!

As a token of respect for his far-reaching impact on previously ignored fisheries, I already sent Gene a brace of my Sea Run 'Gills haiku from last month.

However, per Claude's request:

cartoons that peg life
up on the wall, we chuckle
and Trump the dealer

Welcome aboard, Gene. 8^)

From: Blake Werner
Subject: Welcome, Gene Trump (yet more "poetry")

And from the Seuss is Loose corner...

Oh My Dear sir, another member,
They say he writes cartoons so tender
about our loving sport and focus
he casts for trout, while he doth pokus
So cheers for all, sir Gene de Trumpus
Pull up a chair and tie a bumpus,

some say our mascot OBA
is always fished at break of day...
or evening, noon and sometimes night,
At mash tents some grow BIG, some slight
Some even sprout small cree type wings,
some even have none of these things..

So if you find yerself undone-did,
seek out us and clave among-did
That surely is the crowning glory,
cuz we're truely global, truely family ;-)

The next few were done to commemorate Allan Fish's officially becoming a retired old fart. Little did we know that 3 months after writing these poems, Allan, Claude, and myself would be sharing a pot of coffee together in a campground near Bristol, TN. Oh, the power of FF@:

From: Claude Freaner
Subject: Allan Fish is retiring?

I heard a rumor down at the virtual flyshop from over in the corner behind the stove that Allan might be retiring real soon. I hope that doesn't mean you're going to go off the list and disappear. Anyway, ...

For Allan Fish:

He came upon a little brook,
Peaceful and quiet, by its look:
Its shadowed depths without a trout.
He seemed mad; his face in a pout.

Concentrating, he cast the fly,
Watched it drift, slow, over the lie.
Suddenly it paused, then a splash!
He set the hook, quick as a flash.

Breathing hard, heart racing, tight-jawed,
He stood there, and then with a nod
Said, "Too soon, too hard, too uptight;
It has to have a chance to bite."

Switching to a new unslimed one
He cast again the sulphur dun.
Relax, relax, let the fly drift
Through the pool and into the rift.

A little sip, a small bubble!
This time: pause, do not make trouble.
Wait: "God save the Queen..." lift the tip.
Pull the line, don't make a big slip.

The stream explodes, the fish leaps high.
Silvery flashes in the sky.
Quickly now, drop the rod lower.
Wish the stream was flowing slower.

It starts its run - let the rod flex;
The tippet is only 6X!
The reel screams as it heads away,
Aimed for rocks where the line will fray.

Gently turn it, offer no slack.
Head it upstream, get some line back.
Three more runs it makes, line stripping
Off the reel, into the backing.

Tired at last he brings the fish near.
It lays there quiet - showing no fear.
Hook out, he measures and flinches!
Incredible: twenty-six inches!

The trout released without a flub.
"I'm in the twenty-twenty club!"
He says with a sigh as he sits
On the stream bank to calm his wits.

This sure beats his working with drugs,
He'd rather sit and observe bugs.
Eli Lilly: a good place to work;
"This beats it!" he said with a smirk.

From his vest he pulls a cool drink,
"That Rainbow was big! I think
I'll quit for the day and savor
How it feels to have God's Favor."

Claude Freaner
July 24, 1996

From: Chris Knight
Subject: Something's Fishy

The Allan Fish Commemorative Poetry Series, part II:

No more internet
[this line somehow disappeared from my records..]
Withdrawals are hard

Wandering aimless
Through honey-do lists, able
To fish more often?

Warmwater dude free
Indiana's worried now
Fish to fish for fish

Gold watch time for the
Pharmacological Wiz
Resting the Fish pool

Many fish, no time
Thing of the past, go get 'em
Allan Fish, retired

Try not to drive Mrs.Fish too crazy, now, ya hear?? 8^)

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Material reprinted with the expressed consent and misgivings of the original authors.