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  • JOHN WORSLEY SIMPSON

If Fish Could Fly


If fish could fly the air would be No safe place for you and me

​It’d be frighteningly filled with flapping fins From piscatorial dives and spins

While standing, waiting for a bus, You could be snared by an octopus

And you might be stunned into a stupor If you were hit by an airborne grouper

If a wild dog’s coming, you’ll hear it bark But there’d be no warning from a flying shark

Which might sneak up on you behind And catch you with distracted mind

As you watched an aerobatic display Of a touring troupe of manta ray

Now in the woods you’d rarely hike If you had to watch for gliding pike

And if you’re frail, or even husky You’d be no match for a soaring muskie

​And would you ever twist and shout If you were smacked by a cruising trout

And what chance if in the alley afoot You’re trapped by hovering halibut

The air’s no place for fish to be They’re better in a lake or sea

Where they can flap and flop around The water’s theirs; I’ll take the ground

They grow a nose and I get myself And it will always be that way until









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