Poetry

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WITH A HOP,SKIP, AND A JUMP;ONTO A HORSE AND FLOAT ARE NOW SO
REMOTE,OR THE BUS THAT WENT UP THE HILL,STRANGE TO SAY SOME DO IT
STILL;LOST FEELINGS KNOW HOW HOURS FLOW,WHILST STANDING ON THE
NORTH GATE BRIDGE IN THE RIVER LEAPLENTY OF FISH THE MULLET SEE,
SOME WISE BOY'S HAD NO ROD;JUST A LINE THREE PRONGED HOOKS
LANDED A MULLET FINE,WATER FREE NO POLLUTANT'S THAT NOW BE;NO
FISH NOW THERE JUST STAGNENT WATER NOW UNCLEAR,THAT'S THE RIVER
LEA NOW HERE;THE FISH ARE WHERE NO COME BACK HOW MEMORIES STACK;
IN A BODY'S MIND,NOW THE FISHES FIND THE RIVER LEA NOW COME AND
SEE FISH ALL ABSENT WILL AMEN AGREE.
Joe.

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