Fishing rod, the load, the float,
Gear’s pretty basic.
Hanging on the edge of boat
In the water basin.
Waltzing to the tune of wind,
Steadily and gently.
Growing quiet from within,
Building up a temple.
Jiggled’s up a piece of wood,
Played off by the wave.
Like a caring parent would,
Always playing safe.
Looking forward to the take,
Longing for it rotten.
Not a chance for a mistake,
Better test the water.
Fishing rod, the load, the float,
Tackle is the same.
Hanging on the edge of boat,
Patience is the game.

Time and again
She plays a game,
Fraud is her name.
She won’t be sorry!
To scrap confined,
The stack is high
Of those who tried,
No pride or glory!
Care or romance,
No single chance.
With winner stance
She’ll crush and corn you!
Attention’s sought,
She’s friendly not,
Facetious plot
Behind the corner!
And once she’s through,
The sky is blue,
She’s calm and cool
And not reflexing!
And for her age,
She’s wise and sage,
Lost all her rage
She’s onto next thing!

«Can I talk to you, lady,
Can I call you my girl?»
She was pure and maiden:
«Try to give it a go!»
«Can I try to be near,
Can I try to be close?»
She was perfectly clear:
«You don’t need any cause!»
«Can I try to assist you,
Can I be of a use?»
She was soft and submissive:
«You don’t need an excuse!»
«Can I call you my pussy,
Can I call you my cat?»
She was sweet and conducive:
«You most certainly can!»
«Can I come a step forward,
Can I give you a kiss?»
She was pretty straightforward:
«You can do as you please!»
All those positive answers
She would give it would seem.
I was flawless and handsome…
It was only a dream.

She wants to be a secret agent,
She has to turn another page and
She’s always smart and cool.
She wants to climb the social ladder,
She is a person, not a number
And certainly no fool.
Her attitude defies the system,
Her weaknesses are non-existent.
She has a clear plan.
Has time for fun, though schedule’s busy,
Can play it rough and take easy.
She’ll do the best she can.
There is no stroke she can’t endure
She is so strong, she is mature,
Emotionally wise.
For what she does she has no rival,
Against all odds she will survive and
She surely will rise.

Nothing is clear,
Target’s not near.
Pivot and veer,
Don’t be afraid.
Nothing is certain,
Covered by curtain,
Smeared and dirty,
Hazy a tread.
Stigma or fame,
Known is the game,
Change is its name,
Try to adjust.
Take it or leave it,
Veer and pivot.
Though is so vivid,
Life is not just.
Clever decision
Changing the vision,
Adds more precision,
Waters are stirred.
So goes the story,
Not to be sorry,
Trumpets of glory
Yet to be heard.