Over fifty years ago a boy named Bri.... lived in mid-New York.
One day he took a pole to a pond and caught a fish, not pork.
After hooking it, Bri thought.....that playing the fish could be a chore,
so Bri yanked HARD on the pole. The fish flew through the air, landing on the shore.
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Very exciting for the young fella to catch such a big fish. I wonder if he has the same sense of humor as you Bri.
a poem that sounds a bit fishy to me (flying fish in New York?) but then there again I Believe some things are heaven sent like a big fish for a little boy with a future tail to tell? Sir Bri of well written!