A POEM FOR YOU!

KevinDU

New member
Once upon a boat,
There lived a C-Dory,
Her owner was a sailor,
Full of love and glory.

He sailed her on the sea,
With grace and gentle touch,
He cherished every moment,
Of this boat he loved so much.

But alas, one fateful day,
A storm came out of nowhere,
The waves were wild and choppy,
The winds were full of terror.

But the C-Dory held her own,
She rode the waves with ease,
Her owner sat in awe,
Of her seaworthiness and expertise.

And so they sailed on,
Through calm and stormy weather,
The C-Dory and her owner,
Together forever.
 
C-Dory owners are a special breed,
With their boats so small and sleek.
They glide across the water's face,
With grace and speed and undeniable grace.

They're a tight-knit group, these C-Dory folks,
With a love for the sea that never invokes.
They'll take you out for a ride,
And show you a good time with endless pride.

So if you ever have the chance,
To hop aboard a C-Dory and dance,
Don't hesitate and don't be shy,
Just grab a life jacket and give it a try.

You'll be glad you did, I guarantee,
And join the ranks of the C-Dory family.
 
With boats that are small, but oh so sturdy,

They glide through the waves with grace and poise,

And make all the other boaters jealous of their toys.

With their sleek, fiberglass hulls and shiny chrome,

C-Dory owners are never known to roam,

They've got the perfect boat for any occasion,

And they're always ready for a little bit of action.

So if you're in the market for a boat that's fast and fun,

Come on down to the marina and check out a C-Dory one!
 
Compared to humans, fish exhibit extraordinary reproductive fitness.
Humans, maybe most humans, cannot be oviparous, viviparous or
ovoviviparous with the ability to change depending on our environment.

After all, being labeled as a sequential or synchronous hermaphrodite in
today’s political climate would be fighting words…

Regarding the supernatural, we may be close:

“HEAVEN” by Rupert Brooke

FISH (fly-replete, in depth of June,
Dawdling away their wat'ry noon)
Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,
Each secret fishy hope or fear.
Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;
But is there anything Beyond?
This life cannot be All, they swear,
For how unpleasant, if it were!
One may not doubt that, somehow, Good
Shall come of Water and of Mud;
And, sure, the reverent eye must see
A Purpose in Liquidity.
We darkly know, by Faith we cry,
The future is not Wholly Dry.
Mud unto mud! -- Death eddies near --
Not here the appointed End, not here!
But somewhere, beyond Space and Time.
Is wetter water, slimier slime!
And there (they trust) there swimmeth One
Who swam ere rivers were begun,
Immense, of fishy form and mind,
Squamous, omnipotent, and kind;
And under that Almighty Fin,
The littlest fish may enter in.
Oh! never fly conceals a hook,
Fish say, in the Eternal Brook,
But more than mundane weeds are there,
And mud, celestially fair;
Fat caterpillars drift around,
And Paradisal grubs are found;
Unfading moths, immortal flies,
And the worm that never dies.
And in that Heaven of all their wish,
There shall be no more land, say fish.

Aye.
 
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