‘A canny way to make a living’
Oh noisy squawking seagulls
How deafening the sound
Swooping low scavenging
All the fishy tit-bits on the wooden briney ground
Ducking and diving at the keelboats below
Eager eyes on the fisherman’s waste that they may throw
All hand’s on the deck
Six burly men in waterproof attire
Contented with their daily catch
Entwined in trawling nets of meshed thick wire
Dragged in from a calossal winch
At the rear of the boat
Edged with white, plastic balls
To keep the massive outerlines afloat
Another work day is over
So many tiresome hours spent at sea
These hardy souls return to their loved ones
Father, uncles, sons of the same family
Fisherfolk on a seafaring mission
Bulging decks full of shoals of fish
E’er the fisherman’s eager dream vision
“A canny way to make a living”
Captain Dawson’s wife may say
In the footstep’s of their ancestors
With generation’s after them ‘Come what may’
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Comments
You have really described the sea here Jill and an age old way of life...sadly to die out soon as I think we have nearly depleted the oceans...great write love 💖
Awww 💕💙💕