Fishes are of three sorts
One goes nowhere near fishers nets
Swims the seas merrily
Monarchs verily
'nother sort gets caught
But like lightning jumps off
`There goes a big one' say folks
Not bad these, in a trice wakes
But a third sort, a lousy one
Caught, it buries itself down
Dreaming to be safe and able
Ends up on gentlemen's table
If we can't contrive to be ever-free
Let's be all alert and jump off into our sea.
15.5.2002
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