A Psalm of Wrestling

Tell me not, in mournful number,

About Hard work and Pain,

The mat isn’t where people go to slumber,

I’ve been there once and I’ll be there again,

 

The battle for points and pins,

Takedowns and the great stand up,

The war on the mat begins,

The second you step on and get closeup,

 

The whistle blows and your adrenaline pumps,

You start to run the bar and are in a tee,

Then you get rolled and have bumps,

Your nose bleeds and you can’t see,

 

Through all the blood, sweat, and tears,

You’ve worked your heart out and to give up never,

Your pain allows for you to gain respect from your peers,

Because pain is temporary but the pride is forever.

Anakin J. Cox

A Psalm of Fishing Tournaments

Tell me not, in hefty hook sets

Life is but a brutal black lagoon

Who will catch the best fish, anglers begin to place bets

Nothing beats fishing under the moon

 

Fishing for sport armed with rod and reel

Equipped with flashlights and headlamps galore

No games are played here, for this is the real deal

After hard fought battles all participants will be sore

 

On the boat at midnight with the lights burning bright

The conditions are cold, black, and unforgiving, but only temporary

The drag on the first rod is clicking, it’s a fish alright

The hook set is brisk and unpleasant, but necessary

 

The weigh in approaches as well as the nerves

The fish in the boat’s livewell are active and stressed

A scale is brought out under the gill of the fish to do the job it serves

We weren’t the winners, but there is always next time no need to get depressed
Andrew Muschlitz