The Chomp

And it was felt by a nation, a shark’s chomp on a swimmer’s leg.

And as he bleeds, the nation slowly withers, 

For fear lives best in damaged bodies: 

And as leisured minds struggle with the horror

The call went out for the shark’s demise.

And the search for the criminal predator is on for days,

No sandbar was left unturned; no wave was left unspeared,

But some sharks were,

And the sharks swam in packs, curious but wary.

The media remained on red alert,

But the one, a great white, was not to be found

And the search came to its disappointing end.

 

The swimmer recovered from the bite to his thigh

And the nation was relieved, and got on with life.

It is more probable to be bus whacked than be eaten by a shark

Some said;

And if one wades into murky waters at dawn, trouble is aroused

Experts said;

Shark nets are the beach citizen’s best protection, others said.

Those who play, people say, must respect the way

Sharks rule from the depths to a sea shores shallows

And know the risks playing in the shark’s marine grotto: 

And fear lives happiest in vulnerable bodies 

Its secret place behind the heart.

 

First published in Houdini Weaned on Fear