With Rod, Line, and Bait

Spending days waiting for something to bite,
Wondering whether it’s better at night;
Burning in sunshine and freezing in rain,
Always returning to do it again.

Patience, a virtue, all fishers must know,
Struggling to know just where all the fish go?
Some favour maggots and some favour worms;
Only successful on the fish’s terms.

Why do they bother to turn up each day,
Sitting about with so little to say?
Is it fraternity? Or lack of sense?
Or are they just putting on a pretence?

Wives left at home with the children in tow,
Though they are happy for husbands to go;
Each looking forward to relative peace
Giving them time for their stress to release.

When he comes home at the end of the day,
She will be watching and feeling dismay;
Knowing his basket is empty, again
He’ll catch a big one; he doesn’t know when.

Why she allows it, she never will know;
Yet, she is happy when he wants to go;
Time spent apart gives each time to reflect
So their relationship knows no neglect.

Absent in body, but never in mind,
Letting love grow into rarest of kind;
Hearts growing fonder although they’re apart
Otherwise, she’d never let him depart.

Mindfulness practice means taking control,
Settling the feelings that bother the soul.
Thus, some go fishing, with rod, line, and bait.
Clearing their minds whilst with patience they wait.

Porthcawl Lighthouse at Night

Porthcawl Lighthouse

Nikon D60 30 sec’s f5.6

Many photos of Porthcawl Lighthouse have been taken. But I like this because of the mood that it conveys.

The haze in the foreground is the restlessness of the sea as the tide washes to and fro up to the pier, bathed in moonlight bouncing off the water droplets.

You cannot see it very well at this size, but the light in the middle of Ogmore Beach, in the distance, is a camp fire on the beach.