OK, there's plenty of fish: we all know that. This FisherMan plans to fish responsively in hopes of catching (meeting) a beautiful LadyFish, called... we'll find out soon enough.

As the darkness envelopes them and him being a Turtle, going about his fishing rather slowly...

It does get better though: provided I bring home the Fish, I will buy us a house and live with this LadyFish...but first thing - first!

About the FisherMan: I am a Vancouverite for nearly 3 decades. I value family, have European roots, good education and enjoy a rather progressive lifestyle.

I have a gorgeous, smart grown-up Son, who has a girlfriend and is independent now. I would be open if you had children of your own or if you were to have a child with me.

I run an international business by day and enjoy a few hobbies in my spare time, my key ineterests are highlighted, i.e. photography, drawing, African drumming. Did I say reading? I wrote a screenplay. My creative quirk: New Yorker magazine weekly "cartoon caption" contest, where I compete with the US literati. It's a challenge, all right, just as fishing is here -

What else? Should be quite enough to start a conversation?!

>>Please see if you recognize the authors:

(1)
"Among the smoke and fog of December afternoon
You have the scene arrange itself—as it will seem to do—
With 'I have saved this afternoon for you';
And four wax candles in the darkened room,
Four rings of light upon the ceiling overhead:
An atmosphere of Juliet’s tomb
Prepared for all the things to be said, or left unsaid."

(2)
"Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm..."

(3)
"Who knows who wrote that song of Summer,
That blackbirds sing at dusk
This is a song of colour
Where sands sing in crimson, red and rust
Then climb into bed and turn to dust".

(4)
"This time is difficult. Wait for me,
We will live it out vividly.
Give me your small hand:
we will rise and suffer,
we will feel, we will rejoice."

(5)
"Two young brunettes in the library of the husband
of the more stunning one. Two youthful, tender
ovals hunch over pages: a Muse telling Fate the substance
of several things she tried to render.
The swish of old paper, of red crepe de Chine. A humming
fan mixes violets, lavender, and carnations.
Braiding of hair: an elbow thrusts up its summit
accustomed to cumulus-thick formations,
Oh, a dark eye is obviously more fluent
in brown furniture, pomegranates, oak shutters.
It's more keen, it's more cordial than a blue one;
to the blue one, though, nothing matters!
The blue one can always tell the owner
from the goods, especially before closing -
that is, time from living - and turn the latter over,
as tails strain to look at heads in tossing."
(hint, written by a Nobel laureate)

I will let you choose the place to meet, perhaps, your favourite spot?!
I'd like to see you walk (swim) towards me...to see you from a distance.
May be it is "something in a way you move...?!"