I walked by the crick and back home up my street and snapped some pics. Then I photoplayed and created a wee scene...
A Drunken Tale (At the Local Watering Hole)
who’s quite known for his specific brand spitfire sass.
He lives at his lighthouse, never raising his brows
when the fish fan outwards, away from the birdy buzzards,
for frisky frolics further upstream. Was it all but a dream....
in a little fishing town, a little further down
than that other nifty place, where I saw your pretty face?
(conceived April 24, 2020, recrafted and finalized April 25, 2020)
It’s a nonsense poem, not really saying anything,
But it’s whimsical
And quirky perky:)