Tickling Fish - a children's poem

Tickling Fish

Early morning, traipsing to the pond
Carrying jam sandwiches, strung jars, fishing net.
Sunshine slices through the woodland
while birch trees wear their leaves of green lace.
The sun’s rays kiss motes of dust
and paints them gold.
Minute creatures and moths fly up,
warming delicate wings made cold by night.
Tiny tornadoes stir curled leaves:
while wood ants rush up busy, busy.
I see the pond and stream -
a silver ribbon threading through
pillows of mist washed moss.
A flash of light sees spiders
sitting knitting webs of silken steel
While dewdrops slide along; pearl beads.
Fish, waiting, watching.
Quivering iridescent flashes
of fish, three-spine stickleback;
tiny rainbows dart and jab,
mother of pearl dashes and splashes,
holds still - alert, suspicious,
silver bubbles float effortlessly
to the surface, breaking tension.
My hand hovering, holding,
frozen, slides in like a knife
Wiggling fingers under bellies
tickling fish, slide into the net.
Quietly, gently
tickling fish.
Watching bubbles laugh
as they burst.
Tickling fish.
Behold a giant! A super-sized
Three- Spined three inch Stickleback!
In my jam jar, a trophy!
It’s huge!
But wait…
It has to go back
Sliding in the jam jar
Tension meets tension
He’s free with a shake
A dart, a dash, a nod.
The pond is full of rainbows
Late afternoon traipsing from the pond
Eaten all my sandwiches, wet net, empty jars
Sunshine retiring from the wood
I kick an ants nest, watch them scurry
I’m going back home, I’d better hurry.

copyright Diana Leighton October 2014

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