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The Sea Trout Fisher
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He comes the well worn evening path his craft to
nightly ply
On quiet summer pools where sewin silver sleeping
lie
Like precious
stones that shine unseen beneath the
silent stream
Elusive pearls that haunt the dreams that sea trout fishers dream
Home from salty sea the roaring rapid roughly run
Home to the redd their weary journey long ago begun
To rest and wait by nature’s blinding light of
lengthening day
To stir and wake as verdant leaf turns slowly now to
grey
In twilight hour of hawking bat and silent swooping
owl
The regal corbie sitting high upon an ancient bough
Surveys the simple scene of scented summer’s coming
night
While high above the grey veiled moon gives out a
grudging light
The heron craaks his raucous craak as now a roving
otter
Disturbs the even temper of the cool clear flowing
water
He stops to stare unhurried at the wading fisher’s
feet
Then slides upstream intent again upon his nightly
beat
The braid of supple silk unfurls upon the darkening
river
The teal winged fly with hackle blue and subtle
glint of silver
Dressed long ago with special care upon a winter’s
eve
Swings steady o’er the shingle bed in slow and deft
retrieve
But now the ever restless sea trout shoal has taken
fright
Their moonlight shadows fearful shrink away with
fading light
A chilling mist like silken shroud slips o’er the
settled glen
The chance the fisher thought he had is surely lost
again
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