As a young fish (a fingerling), Ms. Bass would splash and play

Skim the top of the lake in full display

She was shiny, sleek and slick

One hell of a catch

Pretty sure that she would never meet her match

But those who wish to lure create clever devices

To disguise their agendas and hide their prices

And one day you think you’re nibbling a crunchy cricket

And find you’ve been hooked through the mouth

And dragged through a thicket

These days Ms. Bass is careful about what she bites

Having been dragged by her lips and having paid the price

Ms. Bass no more dabbles in subtlety

She looks more closely and knows

She can’t  rely upon what she sees

But certainly knows that the purple sparkly worms

Are a dime a dozen at WALMART