A poem!!!

[dave holmes]

On a hot summers day, sat by the river.

Fishing the depths, with my Avon quiver.

Watching my tip, for a signal to strike.

Wishing & hopeing, for a Barbel to bite.

Out of the blue, like a hawk in flight.

The tip goes round, & bends to the right.

I lift my rod, with slight antissipation.

A Barbel double, is my inspiration.

The fish is on, & making a right fuss.

A double Barbel? More like a double buss!

Pulling off line, my reel with set clutch.

"Let it be a double, I've tried so much".

It fights & fights, like a bull to a Matador.

Suddenly there she is, weighing in at 10-4.

My personal best broken, my wish came true.

One of these days, my friend, it'll happen to you.

 

For my dear friend, Chris f. Berry.

[Elton]

Excellent stuff

 

Tight lines,

 

Elton

[lyn]

Congratulations on your excellent fish

I hope this season I too am granted my wish

A double figure barbel I am after too

I hope I get my fish just like you!

 

I raise my glass to this first of many

If I don't soon get out I won't catch any

 

Well done again.

 

lyn

[Spindle]

Any old Barbel will do for me

No doubt though, I'll just get caught in a tree

A Chub, a Perch, or perhaps a nice Roach

I guess it's all down to the stealthy approach

 

A record Carp is not my dream

And I really don't like those snotty old Bream

But if I catch a record dace on my old 'pin and cane

I really don't think you'll hear me complain!

[catchaplenty]

I dont have any poems but I have a prayer that I've said many times towards the end of a match-

 

Dear God, if it's within thy power

Send me a bream in the next half hour

 

Dave

[SAMTENCH]

you lot have all lost it

but great poams though

good luck to the lot of you

[Chris Plumb]

You lot 'av got me at it now.....

 

Summer on the Kennet

Pellets in a tub

I’d rather catch a barbel

than half a dozen chub.

 

I’d rather catch a barbel,

Than a snotty, smelly bream,

And catch another double

That would be a dream.

 

Autumn on the river,

nights are drawing in,

barbel feeding greedily

it's time to get my 'pin.

 

Purist spinning freely,

trotting through the glide

weeds died back – a barbel’s on

it’s got no where to hide.

 

Winter on the Kennet

the countryside is white,

the lady of the stream

is not too shy to bite.

 

Chris

[Peter Waller]

Only know one angling poem

 

There was a young lady from Ongar

Who something or another about a conger

When - - - -

oh deary me, how does it go now?

[DMCA]

Is this what you're after..(or some variation thereof..)

 

The was a young lady from Ongar

Had fun one day with a conger

Her boyfriend, from Deal,

Asked "How does it feel? "

She said, " Like yours, only much longer!"

 

 

 

where is Ongar anyway?

[Chris Plumb]

Essex - where else

 

Chris