The River Avon: A story of two 'tales'

A short, colloquial style Poem I wrote about Trout and Salmon co-existing in the same space.

The River Avon: Piscatorial Tales.

A River, three characters split is she.

From top to bottom filtered -how clean?

Her neck of boulders, waters fast, no cloud.

A tempestuous trout wise and loud.

Her chest a mix, soft gravels that travel.

Deciding: The spate determines their fate.

Ideal for fish, that spawn with brawn.

Her long legs they’re a tell’ n. Heaving o’ fish

Most often than not an angler’s ‘scotch mist’

The fish a ’plenty, how such is unseen

Secret lives of the salmonids, no-one can screen

T’was the peak of tide, can fresh fish reside?

Migrating cousins, visiting brothers

Smaller, so slight. They take flight!

Now scarce; the natives move aside

Fleeing the scene for such a fish- so clean.

The cynics o’ fish watch wayfarers; such sheen.

Knights of the River. Fish o’ stature they’re proud

Salmo ‘the leaper’ storms the crowd.

If only they dare flee the stream,

Grow big and bold like such cousins seen.

The aged ol’ Trout, whispers…. I’ve been.

By Joshua Maitland ~copyright 2016~