This is a poem about one of me great loves…
Fishin’
I loves to fish the babbling brook,
I casts my rod with baited hook
To lure the silvery bitterling
Who swims where clear, bright waters sing.
In muddy pools I’ll try my luck
Where swarms of black flies bite and suck,
To stalk the dace of bluish hue –
And mebbe put him in a stew!
Some days, sittin’ by the stream
I’ll drift away and in a dream
I’ll take a fish to grace fine tales,
A golden giant with shiny scales –
But when I wake and take a look
A tiny minnow’s slipped my hook.
Back at the inn I tells the tale:
“It must ‘ave been, at least, a whale!”
Catfish, barbel, smelt and rudd,
I hunts them all where waters flood.
Some folks boast of mighty deeds –
I’ll sit content beside the reeds.
