Archive of poems by Anne Kelly
Angling Regatta
The music played
And the fanfare began.
Everyone wanted to see
This most amazing specimen
Caught by Robert Ming.
It was sleek and wet and slim.
The rare fish had now
To be weighed and photographed.
The fish, however, had other ideas.
It had already arrived on a
Certain table in a house in Achill.
Here a local gentleman
Had beheaded and gutted the fish
And finding it not to his taste
Had thrown it out with the waste
On top of a nearby shed.
The music played and the people waited.
At midnight the prize fish was sent for.
The man and his son
Climbed a ladder by moonlight
And brought the fish back
From where it would have provided
The perfect seagull's breakfast.
Luckily the man was an experienced operator.
No damage whatsoever
Had been done to the famous fish.
Soon the man's wife had stitched the fish
And placed the guts inside.
The prize specimen was returned
To the Village Inn,
Held aloft, photographed and felt.
No one noticed the fine stitches
Along the head and down the belly.
But the fish's eyes winked and blinked
And thought of Joe Corelli.
by Anne Kelly
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