Curaçao felt fish.

The belle that was truly rung 

whilst the Curaçao felt fish look 

Hooked And truly stitched on.

Cross traced ripples of water boatmans race 

the glaciers tides that at once slide 

Remain stacked On the ruffled Bairded board.

As home made skates are loch and laced 

That not even a ice Machine could refill 

the Palaeolithic parched lake.

As the flounders found the louder they shouted

The more the sound ignored their gasps for air

Heeding the warmed lanterned advice of thrice.