Line caught, sea-bed-wracked,
I snagged her on my hook, my worm
a tasty snare in the water's darkness.
I the Captain of this Vessel,
I the one to tussle, wave-wrestle,
in the spume I pulled her in:
a good weight; 10 kilos, a handsome fish.
And that's when she began to swish.
She was flat and long, two eyes,
almost jellified, staring straight up at me numb;
her slimy nibbling gape: that's when I fell in love.
Not from Dover, exactly, and not one to skate,
I placed her in a tank - she skipped my plate.
I keep her now on deck, beside the Captain's Wheel;
we course a straight and steady, long and even keel.
But her honesty's my favorite trait;
my briny love, my one sole mate.
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