I quietly sat and read to the Fish,
and much they marveled at the Dish
They Leapt and gulped the air,
(Where is the sea bound catapult that slings you from the depths, I thought)
And from my rock seat saw them gather or
and round my throne,
they waggled their tails and mouths agape,
waited as I turned the page.
Keats they Loved and yearned for more,
Schools of silver, arrows launched from faraway, gathered to listen,
to tickle one an other's sides with fins of slimy transparent hides.
But as I explained his tragical death, their
leaping ceased, and how they wept!
the ocean rose, and planted there upon my rocky throne
I watched the tide of their despair.
And soon the shoreline disappeared, high tide it was and more I feared
these crazy fish would drown us all,
They wept and Wept!
And then a minuscule crab,
clothed in brown
sideways comes to quiet them down.
quietly stifles their tears and sobs,
sends them off into the depths,
those Keats adoring, literate pets.
And the tide recedes, it backs away,
I am left understanding this day:
The Table of Tides and the Fishes tears,
Finally explained after all these years.