The Angler‘s Ballad: Poems of Solitude and the Wild99
The scent of pine, a whispering breeze, the sun a molten gold upon the stream – these are the canvases upon which my angling adventures unfold. More than just a pastime, fishing is a communion with nature, a patient dance with the wild, and a source of profound inspiration. It's a rhythm of anticipation, the quiet thrill of the tug, and the humbling realization of our place within the vast, interconnected web of life. The following poems attempt to capture the essence of these experiences, the solitary beauty and the unexpected joys found only at the water's edge.
I. Dawn on the River
Before the sun, a blush of rose,
Paints the eastern sky, and softly glows,
I stand beside the river's gentle flow,
Where mist hangs low, and shadows softly grow.
My rod, a wand, awaits the subtle sign,
A nibble slight, a tug, a vibrant line.
The world is hushed, a symphony of dawn,
A brand new day, a hopeful, fresh-born morn.
The water whispers secrets in the breeze,
Of ancient life beneath the willow trees.
And in this peace, my soul finds quiet grace,
Reflected clear in nature's gentle face.
II. The Patient Wait
The hours drift, like leaves upon the stream,
Sun-dappled light, a half-forgotten dream.
The bobber floats, a tiny, fragile thing,
While patient hope on silent wings takes wing.
No hurried rush, no frantic, grasping hand,
But quiet trust, in this enchanted land.
The wild things watch, from banks both near and far,
A heron poised, a watchful, shining star.
The river flows, a timeless, ancient song,
And in the wait, where I truly belong.
For fishing's art is more than hook and line,
It's in the pause, the stillness, so divine.
III. The Unexpected Catch
A sudden jerk, a vibrant, thrilling pull,
My senses sharp, my heart begins to full.
The rod bends low, a battle starts to brew,
Between the wild, and me, both strong and true.
A silver flash, a struggle in the deep,
A hidden strength, the secrets it does keep.
Then, slowly drawn, a creature sleek and bright,
Reflecting sun, a breathtaking sight.
A moment shared, a victory hard-won,
Before it's gently back to where it's from.
Respect and awe, a humbling, sacred rite,
To honor life, bathed in the morning light.
IV. Solitude's Embrace
The city's hum, a distant, fading sound,
Replaced by peace, on hallowed, sacred ground.
No hurried steps, no pressures to contend,
Just quiet time, that knows no end.
The river's flow, a constant, soothing balm,
A solace deep, that keeps me safe from harm.
The solitude, a gift of purest grace,
A chance to breathe, to find my rightful place.
To reconnect with nature's gentle hand,
And understand, this wild and wondrous land.
For in the quiet, truths begin to bloom,
And solitude dispels the city's gloom.
V. Sunset Serenade
The sun descends, a fiery, crimson ball,
Painting the sky, before the evening fall.
The river glows, a ribbon, gold and red,
As day gives way, to shadows softly spread.
The birds take flight, their evening chorus rings,
A final song, the joy that nature brings.
My rod is packed, my fishing day is done,
But memories made, beneath the setting sun.
The quiet peace, the beauty I have seen,
A treasure kept, forever evergreen.
For in the wild, a magic I have found,
A solace deep, on hallowed, sacred ground.
VI. The Fisherman's Creed
Not for the trophy, nor the boastful claim,
But for the journey, whispered in nature’s name.
To cast a line, where wild things roam and play,
And find a peace, that brightens every day.
To feel the tug, the struggle, and the fight,
And honor life, with all my heart and might.
To tread with care, upon the fragile shore,
And leave it better than it was before.
To share the wonder, with all who understand,
The beauty wild, across this precious land.
This is the creed, the angler’s solemn vow,
To cherish nature, and protect it now.
The rhythm of the river, the whisper of the wind, the patient wait, the thrilling catch – these are the elements that weave the tapestry of my angling life. It’s a journey of connection, a celebration of the wild, and a source of constant inspiration, reminding me of the beauty, the peace, and the profound interconnectedness of all living things. These poems are merely glimpses, echoes of a larger, more expansive experience, a testament to the enduring magic of fishing in the great outdoors.
2025-03-09
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