For Real Toads: a poem in a triptych

Well, my fellow members of the writers' group Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, just because I've come across all serious a few times recently, please don't forget I'm not usually that way.
I'm not exactly a cross between Ogden Nash and Dr. Seuss, but I often find it difficult to take myself too seriously these days. Ah, yes, I had plenty of angst in my youth, and can dredge up its remnants for a line or three, but I'm a writer of nonsense. That's who I am.

Therefore, this little ditty, written when I woke up in the middle of the night, should come as no surprise.
However, it is in response to Kerry's challenge for a triptych style of poem, and my mind hears the word triptych and immediately thinks of three-part paintings in ancient cathedrals. Who, me?
Thanks, Kerry, for including the wonderful fun photographic triptych of three strangers, because it takes some of the pressure off me to be serious.

❣

fishing's fun

you need no gun—

a bent pin on a string will do you

a tree branch for a rod

sit yourself down on the sod

and wait for a fish to come to you

❣

now I've got myself a boat

while not the finest craft afloat

at least it's mine

I'll later dine

on fresh-caught trout

and thank the gods of fishing

for my dinner

❣

is not this yacht the finest thing?

a dozen of my friends I'll bring

and we can drink

and fish away the day

all catch-and-release

or I'll have no peace

with my spouse if I mess anything

❣

Images from Google